


Heal

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Healing, Rape, Recovery, Romance, Sexual Assault, non-con, real person fiction - Freeform, unrequited feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-06-25 14:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15642318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Y/N is an actress on the hit show Supernatural. She’s got a crush on her co-star, Jensen Ackles, but she’d never do anything about it. When she goes through a trauma she never saw coming, Jensen is there to pick up the pieces… a classic story of unrequited love.





	1. Chapter 1

The plane landed on the tarmac with a bump and you stared out of the window at the rain lashing down outside. A wide yawn split your face as you stretched in your seat, patiently waiting for the plane to come to a stop and for the usual checks to be carried out. Before long, you were strolling through customs, enjoying the relative anonymity that some of the smaller airports allowed you.

Three giggling fans waved at you as you walked out to the pick up point, spotting one of the Creation handlers. You waved back at the fans before jogging to the car, smiling at Melissa, who’d been one of the handlers you’d had at the last con. “Good to see you, Y/N,” she greeted, opening the door.

Tossing your bag inside first, you climbed in, waiting for Melissa to shut the door. “You too. Nice week off?”

“Oh you betcha,” she replied, grinning. “Great time. What about you?”

“No time off here,” you sighed, tilting your head. “Last scenes of this season were filmed a few days ago and we had to go in for reshoots.” A scowl crossed your face. “I’m still convinced that we only had to reshoot because Jensen and Jared cannot behave.”

Melissa laughed. “Oh yeah,” she agreed. “I’m looking forward to having them arrive tonight. Maybe the weather will cheer up.”

You shrugged, leaning back in your chair. “Rain doesn’t bother me,” you murmured. “Just as long as it’s warm.”

It was convention weekend and you always got here before the boys did. Jared was flying in from Texas after visiting home to see his wife and kids. Jensen, as far as you knew, was still in Vancouver. He only went back to Texas if he was staying with Jared or visiting his parents.

Your phone beeped loudly and you fished it out of your pocket, reading the text with a smile growing on your face. “Oh, hey, Jared’s already here! He’s at the hotel, in the bar, waiting with presents from Gen and kids.” Clasping your phone to your chest, you felt the excitement of a convention weekend with your two best friends. It always got you like this, how giddy you got - maybe it was just the effect the boys had on you.

Melissa smiled at your enthusiasm. “It’s not far. So, got any spoilers for me?”

“Shush,” you hissed, rolling your eyes. “If the network find out I’m selling them to everyone…” She laughed at your joke, covering her mouth. “No, seriously, you’re gonna love the finale. Or maybe hate it. It’s intense, that’s all you’re getting.”

“Spoilsport,” Melissa muttered. “I need to be emotionally prepared.”

“You’re such a fangirl,” you scolded.

Moments later, the car pulled up to the hotel and Melissa climbed out first. Within twenty minutes, you were in your room, unpacking to find something to wear for the evening. Another text from Jared asking where you were and one from Jensen saying he was just getting to customs.

Jared was grinning when you walked into the bar, wearing your favorite comfy black dress with flat shoes and some simple makeup. “Hey!” he greeted, standing up to envelope you in a huge bear hug. “Good to see you!”

“I wasn’t expecting you here before Jensen,” you said, taking a seat beside him. Jared laughed, shaking his head, his hair restrained by his beanie hat. “What about Gen and the kids?”

“They’re headed to Florida for a family thing. And I love Gen’s parents, I do, but I’ve barely seen you or Jensen since filming finished.” He smiled nervously and you narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“You’re lying to me,” you stated and Jared swallowed. “What’s happened? Are you and Gen okay -”

“Me and Gen are fine,” he assured you, signalling to the bartender for two beers. “Nothing is wrong. We just…”

“No,” you whispered, realizing exactly what him and his scheming little wife were up to. “Jared, not this again, I told you last time -”

“He’s miserable,” Jared interrupted, holding his hand up. “And he does like you, Y/N, you just need to tell him how you feel and you could -”

You shook your head angrily. “No, Jared. No.” Sucking a breath, you calmed yourself, resolving to deal with the matter once and for all before Jared could continue and ruin their evening. “I’m not doing this. I’m not going to bare all and tell Jensen how I feel. I’m not putting him in a position where our job could be uncomfortable. I’m not gonna be one of those CW couples. I’m not doing it.”

“Y/N -”

Slamming your fist on the bar, you snapped. “I’m. Not. Doing. It.” You enunciated each words, keeping your eyes locked with his. “I swear to god, Jared, you drop the subject or I’m gonna go back to my room and you can explain to Jensen why I’m not talking to you.”

He held your gaze for a second before you saw the fight go out of him. Slowly, Jared nodded and turned back to his beer. “The kids sent presents for you,” he said quietly. “Shep made you a macaroni robot. Tom’s drawn you a picture of you riding a unicorn. I’ve got them in my room if you wanna grab them later.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, hating the tension between you. “I’m sorry, Jare, I just can’t talk about it.”

“I know. I just… I just wanna see you happy,” Jared replied, reaching out to take your hand.

“I am, I promise,” you insisted, patting his hand as he stretched it out. “I’ve got wonderful friends, amazing family and a great job.” You folded your fingers around Jared’s, squeezing his hand. “Now, come on. I wanna hear all about how those boys of yours are doing before Jensen gets here and starts making us do shots.”

*****

The night drew on - Jensen joined you thirty minutes later and was quickly ushering the both of you out of the door, his intention entirely focused on shots. A short meal and it was onto another bar.

By midnight, you were slurring and decided it was about time to go home before you were completely ruined for the convention. Jensen was being chatted up by a woman at the bar and you caught his eye, trying not to feel uncomfortable by his flirting.

But it seemed like all of his attention shifted from her to you and he smiled fondly, jumping when Jared appeared behind him. “Hey, man,” Jared hiccuped, leaning heavily on his friend. “I’m…”

“Lightweight,” you jeered. Jensen ignored the woman who had been flirting with him, holding Jared up and not missing your wide yawn.

“Oh yeah, he’s the lightweight. Come on, sleepyhead. Let’s get you a cab.”

“The hotel is two blocks, Jay,” you argued, waving off his concern. “I can walk.” He pulled a face, shaking his head, just as Jared turned and heaved up all over the floor. You jumped back to avoid the puke and Jensen cursed loudly. “I don’t think he can.”

“Y/N, wait -” Jensen was struggling to keep Jared off of the floor now and you were that drunk sort of determined, like you were invincible.

You should have stayed in the bar.

Stepping out into the cool evening, you heading down the street, enjoying the fresh air. The bar had smelled like stagnant beer and you didn’t want to know what it smelled like now. It was not the first instance where Jared couldn’t hold his alcohol and ordinarily, you’d be worrying over him.

Jensen was just being overprotective.

Half a block from the hotel, you heard a noise, pausing just outside a long dark alley. Your stomach churned and your heart raced, adrenaline confusing your fight or flight reflex when a man emerged from the darkness, leering at you.

He was faster and you went down before you even got a few feet, your head slamming into the concrete and distorting your entire perception of the world around you. You groaned, eyes rolling back in your head as your assailant dragged you, presumably into the darkness of the alley and you couldn’t see anything.

Unfortunately, you could feel everything.

Your phone was ringing. The tinny sound of AC/DC was muffled in your jacket pocket, crumpled on the floor opposite where you laid, face down on the dirty alley floor, tears leaving your eyes as the worst possible thing happened to you.

Eventually, your phone shut off, and you were left alone in your tattered clothing, and as it started to rain, you hoped you didn’t wake up.

*****

“All I’m saying,” Jared slurred as Jensen rushed him along the sidewalk, “is that you should at least tell her you think she’s hot.”

“Aren’t you done with this subject yet?” Jensen snarled back, turning the corner onto the last block before their hotel. He hoped to find Y/N tucked up in bed - she’d left right around the point Jared had thrown up tequila and pizza. The worry that something would happen to her had played on his mind and a bad feeling had settled into his stomach.

Once Jared was cleaned up and given a bottle of water, he seemed better but by that point, Jensen didn’t know how long Y/N had been gone for. He’d rung her phone but it kept going to voicemail.

Almost to the hotel, a man suddenly burst out of the shadows and Jensen jumped back, yelled after him. Jared walked straight into his back, holding his cell phone up as Jensen glared after the man. “Fucking idiot.”

“Imma call Y/N again,” Jared mumbled, dialling her number on his phone.

In the darkness, just behind them, the low sound of Highway To Hell bounced off of the alley walls. Jensen’s blood ran cold and a heavy weight dropped into his belly, cementing his worst fears. Jared’s hand landed on his shoulder as he stepped forward, trying to hold him back.

“Call 911,” he rasped, not even looking at Jared, pushing him away as he walked further into the dark, dirty alley. The brief rain shower had left everything soaked and slowly, his eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

A nightmare laid out before him. Y/N’s jacket, soaked in a puddle, the screen of her phone lit through the material. Scraps of her dress, droplets of blood and her pale skin, soaked and grey in pallor where she lay taking shallow breaths.

“Y/N,” Jensen gasped, skidding to his knees beside her, not caring about the wet ground or the puddles underneath his legs. Y/N didn’t stir and he could see blood matted at her temple. Cuts and bruises covered her sides and legs, gravel rash from where she’d been dragged slowly seeping into the water droplets on her skin. Her arm was bent at a funny angle and Jensen reached out.

Everything happened so fast from there. Jared was telling him not to touch her, suddenly sober although green around the gills when he realized who the man had run from. Jensen was silent, pale and stunned, and he nodded at instructions, even when the police arrived.

Y/N was loaded onto a stretcher, her eyes opening briefly and Jensen begged them to let him go in the ambulance. Jared was on the phone to someone else now, probably the convention organizers. “Sir, you have to step back,” one of the officers instructed as he made to climb into the ambulance.

“No, they said I could go with her!”

The paramedic held out his hand, stopping the officer from touching Jensen as he tried to board the vehicle. “It’s okay, Deputy, he’s coming with us.”

Jensen crawled into the seat next to Y/N’s stretcher, staying out of the way of the paramedic as he checked her over. The back doors slammed and he held onto the fold down seat he was on as the vehicle started up and trundled in the direction of the hospital.


	2. Chapter 2

Your mouth felt dry and your eyes refused to open. It felt like someone had dunked you in sand.

A dull beep made you turn your head and you felt fingers on your hand, although it was a numb sensation. Your body parts didn’t seem to be under your control and you wanted a drink of water more than anything.

“Y/N?” Someone called you and you groaned, irritated that you couldn’t open your eyes. Focusing everything you had, you cracked open your eyes, whining when pain erupted across your temple. “Sssh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” the voice accompanied a stroking sensation on your hand. “You don’t have to wake up right now, okay?”

You were okay with that and allowed yourself to be pulled back under.

The second time you woke, your eyes opened a little easier. One of them still hurt - you could feel the swelling - but the other cleared in a second and you saw Jensen’s face, relaxed in sleep as he slumbered with his head on the side of your bed.

You wanted to reach out and touch him, wake him to let him know you were there, but everything was too heavy. Closing your eyes again, you exhaled softly, falling back to sleep just as Jensen opened his eyes and looked at you.

A sense of being in limbo surrounded you. Neither asleep, nor awake, the real world interacted with your subconscious in a peculiar way. You saw scenes from the show, like you were in that reality, but you could hear voices close to you, discussing something heatedly.

“Jensen, I know you don’t wanna leave her but you’re not doing her any good making yourself sick.”

“You think I should be on stage laughing?” The distinctly male voice was filled with anger. “Pretending like everything’s okay? What excuse are they giving people anyway?”

You heard a sigh and the other male voice, softer in tone, started to speak again. “As far as the media know, she was mugged. The convention already informed everyone, a lot of people brought flowers and cards. They’re all worried.”

“Have they done an official statement?”

“No.” There was a long pause before they spoke once more. “They want to wait for her to wake up before they release a statement. And the police want to interview us.”

“I can’t do this,” the anger had gone from the harsher of the two now, replaced with despair. “I can’t do the panel, Jared. I know the contract, I know but....”

“I’m not saying do the panel, Jackles,” was the calm reply. “I’m saying take a shower, have a decent meal. Get some rest. Me and Misha have the con covered. You know that. Everyone will understand.” 

“She was raped, Jare,” whispered the other voice. “Someone… someone did this to her.”

You sucked in a breath, releasing it in a shuddering wave. A remembered sensation assaulted you, the feeling of fingers touching you, groping you and fear crawled into your brain to take up residence. Someone was grabbing your hand and calling your name but all you could do was scream.

Something slammed and your name was a repeated chant but then the voices went away and a sharp pain assaulted your arm.

Then it was dark again and nothing came to you.

*****

It was two days before you opened your eyes again and this time, you rushed headlong into panic when you felt the tube in your throat. Your eyesight was blurred and you couldn’t make out anything but lights and shapes. Someone stretched across you and as the tunnel vision faded, your hearing came back, actual voices replacing the high-pitched whine in your ears.

“Just breathe for me, honey, just breathe.” A lady, a nurse, you thought, was holding your shoulder, turning off the loud alarms coming from the machine at your elevated heart rate. “I’m gonna take the tube out now, okay. I’m gonna count to three and you cough, got it?”

You nodded, and she counted, and you coughed, feeling like you were going to puke. Your stomach was empty so all you could do was retch and dry heave, trying your best to gain some control over your bodily functions. The nurse rubbed your back as you looked up, seeing an middle-aged woman with coiffed red hair and pointed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

When she smiled, there was a little bit of lipstick on her teeth. You stared at her, slowly breathing on your own again. “Hello, Miss Y/L/N,” the woman greeted. “I’m Doctor Crawford.” She held up your chart. “I’m one of the lead physicians here, I’ve been treating you since you were brought in.”

“What… what happened?” you asked, throat raw from the tube. The nurse offered you a cup of ice chips and you took it gratefully, sucking one into your mouth and letting it soothe the raw skin. You noticed that you had two teeth missing and frowned. “Was I attacked?”

It was like color filtering back into the world - you felt every ache and pain on your body. The broken wrist and fractured ankle. The bruises and cuts, stinging your entire body as they healed. The black eye that was making your face hurt. And…

You gasped and burst into tears and the nurse leaned over, rubbing your back again. Half of you wanted to scream at her not to touch you but the other half was helplessly in need of human comfort. The doctor moved to sit at the side of the bed, reaching forward to rest her hand on the bed.

“What do you remember, sweetie?” she asked, soothingly and you hiccuped through your tears, not wanting to even try and drag memories to the surface.

“I don’t remember anything but I can,” you stopped to suck in a breath, almost hyperventilating. “I can feel it. It hurts.”

“We’ll get you some pain medication,” Doctor Crawford promised, patting the bed. “You’re safe now, okay? You’re going to be just fine.”

You didn’t feel like you’d ever be fine again.

She told you about your injuries and what they’d done to treat you. There’d been some bleeding on the brain, which had caused a seizure but they’d managed to get you back and stable, with minor surgery to remove the bleed. You had a large patch of hair missing from your head and of all the things she’d told you, that was the worst.

They wouldn’t let you have visitors at first and you were glad you didn’t have to face anyone. You wondered who knew, what exactly everyone was saying and it was driving you crazy but you didn’t think you could stand the sympathetic looks and pity you’d undoubtedly receive. 

But you did have to face a police officer. She was a kindly detective and you quickly noticed that you’d only been attended to by women since you’d arrived. “I’m really sorry I can’t tell you anything,” you whispered, your throat still sore. “I didn’t see his face and I don’t… I don’t remember anything.”

The detective smiled. “We’re running a DNA profile and trying to trace your bank cards, everything that was in your purse. Your phone was damaged quite badly. We have it in evidence but I can get it for you if you’d like.”

“No. I don’t think I want it right now,” you murmured.

“Well, we’re monitoring your emails and social networking,” the detective assured you and you nodded, shifting in the bed. “If you do remember anything,” she added, fishing a card from her pocket and passing it to you, “please call me. We’re gonna do everything we can to catch this guy, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied weakly.

Three days after you’d woken up, Doctor Crawford knocked on your door, just after lunch. “Hello, Y/N.”

“Hi, Doctor Crawford,” you greeted, giving her a smile. “How are you today?”

“I think that’s my line,” the doctor joked, sitting at the edge of the bed. “You know, there’s a few very concerned people who have practically taken up residence in the waiting room,” she said, tilting her head at you. “Now, I can tell them to shoo, and they’ll come back tomorrow, and I’ll tell them to shoo again. But I think you should at least see your mom.”

“My mom?” you whispered, frowning. “But Mom wouldn’t fly, she hates planes -”

“She flew. From what I understand, she got here within hours,” Doctor Crawford smiled. “She’s very worried about you.”

“I wanna see her,” you insisted, tears gathering in your eyes. “Please.” The doctor smiled and patted your uncasted calf, standing up and walking outside, beckoning to someone. A few seconds later, your mom appeared and you sat up, reaching out to her as you burst into tears.

The doctor closed the door, leaving you alone.

“Oh, sweetheart,” your mom cried, sobbing just as hard as you were. “I’m here,” she soothed, holding you close as you cried a lifetime’s worth of tears into her arms.

*****

Your mom was eventually the one to convince you to see your friends. After a few hours sobbing your heart out against her shoulder, she asked you about the three strapping young gentleman in the waiting room, who hadn’t left in the time you’d been there.

“They’re work friends,” you muttered, trying not to think too hard about what they must think of you. “I don’t know why they’re here.”

“Because they care about you,” your mom replied, frowning. “Jensen, is it? He’s still wearing the same clothes he had on when I got here on Sunday.” You blinked at that, unsure how to take that piece of information. “He doesn’t pester to see you, just hovers and asks how you are every five minutes,” she continued fondly. “He’s a lovely boy.”

“Mom, I don’t think now is the time for matchmaking.”

Your mom softened, holding your hand. “I’m just making sure my baby has good people around her. Those boys are beating themselves up because they let you leave that bar alone.”

“It’s not their fault,” you mumbled. “They should know that.”

“All they know right now is that their friend was hurt,” she soothed, stroking your hand with her thumb. “They’re worried. Everyone is. You’re very loved, you know.” You felt your cheeks heat up, not feeling the least bit worthy of anyone’s affection.

“How long can you stay?” you asked hesitantly, knowing you’d hate whatever answer she had to give.

Your mom smiled, squeezing your hand. “Your dad is okay for now. At least a few days more. I’ll fly back up to Vancouver with you when you’re up to it.”

“I’m kinda up to it now,” you murmured. “I hate hospitals. I’d be comfier in my own bed.”

“I know,” she soothed. “But you’re where you need to be right now. We’ll speak to the doctor, see about getting you out of here and I’ll fly home with you.”

“I still can’t believe you got on a plane,” you stated and she laughed, standing up. “I love you, Mom.”

“And I love you,” she replied. “You’ll always be my baby, Y/N, don’t forget that. Now, which one of these concerned boys am I sending in first?”

Jensen ended up muscling his way into see you before anyone else, his body language tense and the bags under his eyes far more pronounced than you’d ever seen them. He sat in the chair your mom had vacated – she’d gone to find something to eat and to quote directly, “some coffee that didn’t taste like ass”.

“Hey,” Jensen whispered, his eyes shining as he looked at you and you smiled, reaching out to take his hand, not wanting him to be afraid of touching you. You’d already decided not to let the actions of one man ruin your personal relationships and you especially didn’t want Jensen to think you were frightened of him. “How are you feeling?”

“You ever been in a fight with a truck?” you asked and he smirked a little. “It’s kinda like training with the stunt guys, except more bruises and a big bald patch on the back of your head.”

“Hair will grow back, Y/N,” he murmured, absently dragging his thumb back and forth over your hand. “I was so scared,” he added, not meeting your gaze and you tugged on his hand, pulling him a little closer, seeing the threat of tears in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” you lied, covering his hand completely, squeezing. “They said you disturbed… them.” Attributing a title such as “he” or “him” made it too real for you to deal with, so you stuck to non-specific pronouns. “The cops said if you hadn’t… it could have been worse.” He didn’t say anything to that but the guilt written over his face was visible enough. You frowned, shaking your head slightly. “Jensen, you saved my life.”

“I shouldn’t have let you walk out of there on your own,” he insisted, avoiding your eyes. “I should have made Jared pull himself together so I could make sure you were safe.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Jensen, I’m a grown up. I walked out of the bar. I took my safety into my own hands. This wasn’t your fault. This was entirely the fault of the guy who attacked me.” He lifted his gaze to yours and you could tell he didn’t believe you. “Jen… please don’t blame yourself for this.”

He nodded but he wasn’t one to concede so easily. No doubt he’d take his guilt to the grave and you gave him a soft look.

“Change of subject,” you announced, not wanting to dwell on what had happened any longer – it was bad enough you had to go over everything with the police constantly. “What’s going on with vacations?”

That topic was easier and twenty minutes later when Jared joined you, you were feeling a little more normal. Jensen had shown you well-wishes from Twitter, those at the con who had noticed your absence on the last day. The line was “mugging” and you were perfectly content to let that be the reason forever.

Misha was last to join, albeit briefly. When Doctor Crawford noticed the crowd growing in your room, she promptly kicked them all out. Jensen promised to shower and eat and return when he looked more human. Jared lingered, waiting to be the last one to leave.

“I’m heading back to Texas,” he confessed, “and I want you to know, if you don’t wanna stay in Vancouver, or you need a break, or anything, call me?” He touched your hand gently. “I know Jensen and your mom are here but Gen and the kids, we all adore you. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t,” you promised, accepting the chaste kiss on your cheek, squeezing his bicep as he leaned down. “Go home to your family, Jared. We’ll Skype.”

“Damn straight we will,” he joked before the doctor shooed him out and you were left with your physician. There were more tests to run, more results to go through and by the time she was done, you were exhausted, slipping into an easy sleep, aided by the joys of hospital-grade painkillers.

When you woke up briefly, your mom was asleep in the chair opposite your bed and you smiled, rolling over to the other side and coming face to face with a snoozing Jensen, who looked a whole lot more rested than he had. With a fond grin, you closed your eyes and fell back into a welcome slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

A week after the incident, Jensen brought you a new phone so you could Skype with the Padaleckis from your hospital bed. Doctor Crawford had insisted on another twenty-four hours under observation because of the head injury but everything else was healing well and she was happy for you to leave provided your mom and Jensen looked after you.

They were on a first name basis now, moving passed the awkward “Mrs Y/L/N” and just addressing her as Missy. You were mortified by the secrets your mom was spilling with regards to embarrassing childhood incidents and it didn’t take you long to snag her purse and check she didn’t have photo albums stashed away in there.

Learning to walk on crutches was mortifying. They’d placed two pins in your ankle to support the bone and you’d be in the cast for at least eight weeks, which caused you further dismay when you realized you wouldn’t be back in time for filming. Jensen had already spoken to the producers of the show, explaining to them what had happened. The decision on your future with Supernatural was in their hands and you tried not to think about it.

They insisted on a wheelchair when you were discharged and through the airport. You covered your face, hoping to God no fans saw you but Jensen and your mom headed off any interventions, making sure the security staff were aware of the situation.

“We’ve got about three hours until our flight,” Jensen said, checking the screens as your mom fiddled with the brakes on your chair. You clutched your holdall on your lap, unable to make out much on the distant screens. “You wanna get some food that isn’t jello-based?”

“Oh honey, there’s a nice looking Italian over there,” Missy pointed out, tapping the handles of the wheelchair. “You like Italian.”

Jensen chuckled. “I’m up for a pizza.”

“Look, as long as it isn’t jello or suspiciously oozing, I’m good,” you quipped, smiling at the both of them. You mom giggled, pushing you forward towards the restaurant. Once inside, you hobbled out of your chair, opting for a comfortable seat next to Jensen.

A waitress came over, engrossed in her notepad, barely looking up until Jensen spoke. The wave of recognition was instant as she froze on the spot, staring at him. Your mom didn’t even notice, continuing to peruse the wine menu.

“Oh my god,” the girl whispered, the notepad drooping in her hand. “You’re Dean Winchester!” Jensen looked up, eyes wide, not expecting the sudden fan interaction and the girl blushed. “Sorry, I’m so rude! I’m a big fan of the show and –“ She seemed to notice you, blinking. “And Y/N!” She clutched her chest. You managed a weak smile, hands shaking under the table.

Jensen stood up. “Hey, you want a selfie?” he asked, taking control of the situation with a wide grin. The waitress flustered before pointing to you and he chuckled nervously. “Y/N’s not really up for standing right now,” he said, meeting your eyes with concern.

“You can sit next to me?” you offered, wanting to be nice to the fan.

“Oh my god, really?” The girl glanced around looking nervous. “I might get in trouble…”

“Nonsense,” Jensen replied, waving off her concern. He gestured next to the bench where Y/N was sat. “Take a seat. What’s your name?”

“Nina.”

The selfie was quick and Nina was very careful not to jostle you, obviously aware you’d been in some kind of incident. When the photo was done and she took your orders, she thanked you both profusely. “Is it okay if I upload this to Twitter? Everyone’s been so worried about you, Y/N.”

Your cheeks heated up and you nodded. “I’m okay,” you told her sincerely. “Just a bit bumped and bruised.”

The waitress smiled. “Thank you so much,” she repeated. “I’ll get your orders out right away.” She turned and left and Jensen sat back down, reaching over to take your free hand.

“You did good, sweetheart. People will wanna know you’re okay,” he reassured you and you smiled a little.

“I don’t look too much like a walking bruise then?” you asked and he smiled, leaning over to peck you on the cheek. It was most likely meant as a friendly gesture but it sent warmth spiralling down to the very tips of your toes.

“You look gorgeous as always,” he murmured quietly and you were sure you were beet red at the compliment. But you kept quiet, refusing to meet your mother’s knowing gaze as she smirked at the both of you. When Nina returned with the meals, she was awestruck but kept her conversation to a minimum.

Jensen signed her notebook before you left, urging you to do the same but with your cast on your wrist, all you could manage was a messy squiggle. Nina smiled. “It’s cool,” she assured you. “Just meeting you has been amazing.” You smiled at her, genuinely, although you felt awkward when Jensen helped you back into the wheelchair. “I really hope you feel better soon,” Nina added. “If you weren’t back on the show next season, it wouldn’t be the same.”

“And you keep saying they’re gonna kill you off,” Jensen teased, waving at Nina as he took over pushing the wheelchair from your mom. “You’re a fan favorite, darlin’.”

“Shuddup,” you grumbled as Missy giggled. “Mom!”

“What, I feel like a celebrity just being next to you two!” she gushed, touching your shoulder gently. “And flying first class!”

“You are welcome,” chirped Jensen, tipping his head. “Just call me King Of The Airmiles.”

You rolled your eyes, looking up at your mom as she smiled, her eyes a little watery. All of this was for your benefit - you weren’t stupid. Doctor Crawford had given you the speech as well as them. Distraction was enough to keep you grounded for now.

Vancouver was an eight-hour flight and you’d expected to fall asleep like you always did. Your mom had taken a couple of tranquilizers - the key to getting her on a plan apparently - and was out like a light with her headphones playing her some kind of old eighties music station. Jensen settled himself down as the plane started to taxi and you closed your eyes, waiting for the plane to be at a stable level before you could relax.

That moment didn’t come. An hour in, your mom was snoring and you gave up. Jensen was watching something, thinking you were asleep, so you reached over and tapped his leg. “Hey,” he said, pulling the headphones off and looking over at you. “I thought you were asleep.”

“No,” you sighed, leaning your head on the edge of your seat. “Can’t seem to relax.”

“Probably the drugs they gave you,” he quipped, pressing a button on his screen to turn it off. You shifted in the large seat, hesitating as Jensen watched you curiously. “Everything okay?”

“Would you come sit with me?” you asked sheepishly and Jensen’s face erupted into a smile. “Sorry, I guess I’m feeling a little… vulnerable.” His smile didn’t fade and he unclipped his belt, moving to your seat and squeezing in behind you. With some shuffling, you turned so your face was pressed against his chest, your cast resting against his shoulder. “Thanks,” you whispered.

“No problem,” Jensen murmured, kissing the top of your head.

*****

It all fell apart once you were in Vancouver. The plane landed and you waited for everyone else to get off before Jensen wheeled you out through the tunnel into the airport. Being nearly five in the morning and the sun barely making it over the horizon, none of you had expected much trouble getting through customs.

Your mom spotted the photographers first and grabbed Jensen’s arm, alerting him to the presence of cameras at the gate. When you saw them, you immediately started to panic and Jensen started to back away until he saw Cliff push through the crowd who were already taking photographs.

“Back way,” Jensen barked to Cliff, who already had three of airport security with him. You covered your face, scratching your cheek with your cast as your mom tried to shield you as you escaped.

“Why are they here?” you whined, unable to stop yourself from crying as your heart raced and you felt like you were going puke. Jensen kept moving, not answering and “feeling like” became a definite “going to”.

“Jensen, stop!” Missy cried out, just as you lurched forward and upchucked the Italian meal from Nashville. The airport staff scrunched up their noses, calling into their radios for a cleaner. “Oh sweetheart,” your mom cooed as you struggled to breath through your tears and snot and puke.

“Keep moving,” Cliff grunted, pressing against Jensen’s shoulder. “Danny is bringing the car around to the loading bay.”

Jensen nodded, pushing on, his scowl deepening as you curled in on yourself as much as you could, not caring about the awkward bumps and injuries that you caught. By the time they made it to the loading bay, Danny, your assistant at the CW, had the wheelchair ramp up against the side of the usual black Range Rover he drove.

You didn’t make a sound as they rolled you in, locking up and speeding away from the airport. It felt like your life was over, that your messy face, awful clothes and the ratty old scarf covering your bald spot from surgery, would be plastered across every gossip site known to man.

This was one of the drawbacks of suddenly having a fanbase. Granted, you weren’t even a C-lister but the Supernatural fandom was huge and you knew Jensen being with you would have gossip columnists salivating at the rumors.

“Sweetheart?” Jensen’s voice made you lift your head. “We’re gonna go to my apartment, okay? Cliff said there’s paps at your block.” You didn’t say anything, laying your head on the back of the wheelchair and wishing you would disappear into thin air.

Jensen’s apartment was on the edges of Vancouver, located in an upscale part of town with gated access. It was a nice green community - Jared had a larger property on the same estate. Your mom wowed at the houses and apartment blocks, her eyes wide.

“Isn’t your place somewhere like this?” she asked, glancing at you but you didn’t answer.

“We bought these when they were brand new,” Jensen said, “and Y/N’s apartment is still in the nice part of town but it’s not gated. Paps can’t get in here.” He reached out to touch your hand, frowning when he found your skin cold and clammy. “Maybe you’d help Y/N grab a bath or something?” He directed the question at Missy, who nodded in response. “You might feel better getting all that hospital and airplane grime off ya.”

When he didn’t get a response, he locked eyes with your mom, sighing heavily.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispered but it wasn’t meant for you this time.

You didn’t react when they wheeled you from the car up to Jensen’s apartment. You’d been there before but he took you on the tour anyway while Cliff took your bags to your rooms. He’d put you in the guest room next to his room and your mom on your other side.

“This is a lovely place,” Missy commented, looking at the simple but tasteful decor, the few football jerseys lying around. An empty beer can was perched on the coffee table and Jensen picked it up, blushing.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, like a small boy getting caught doing something wrong, “I’m not used to having guests.”

“It’s okay, dear,” your mom replied, turning her attention to you. “Let’s get you cleaned up and into some nice warm pyjamas.” She was treating you like you were a little kid again but you let it slide, not really caring for anything at the moment. Every passed second made you feel more like a burden - Jensen had to give up his home because you had gotten yourself into the gossip limelight.

Jet lag had wiped all three of you and when you’d had an awkward bath with your mom helping, you settled down in the guest room, leaving the door open. Sunshine streamed down the corridor as you lay there staring, hearing your mom snore in the adjoining room.

Your crutches were by the bedside table and you clumsily shifted in bed, swinging your legs over the edge and picking up the crutches. Hobbling out of the guest room, you headed down towards Jensen’s open door, lingering at the threshold.

“Jen?” you asked, hating that your voice sounded like a little lost girl.

Jensen stirred, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. His hair was sticking up all over and the sheets were tangled around his legs. “Y/N?” he murmured, peering at you sleepily. “Everything okay?”

“Can I sleep in here?” 

He stared at you for a moment, like he didn’t understand what you’d said, then he smiled. “Of course, sweetheart.” He got off the bed, walking over to help you, still wobbling on your crutches. When you’d sat down, he put them by his bedside table, climbing in next to you, letting you position yourself against his body. “Is it okay if I put my arm here?” Jensen whispered, tapping your waist and you nodded, snuggling into him when he hugged you tightly. “I’m here, Y/N. Not goin’ anywhere.”


	4. Chapter 4

After three days, your mom needed to go home. She hated to leave and you wanted her to stay but you didn’t want to be selfish, keeping her away from your dad who wasn’t so hot himself. With a promise that you’d visit, you waved her off in the car with Cliff, struggling to hold your tears in.

“You wanna get some dinner?” Jensen offered, closing the door after you’d wheeled yourself inside. The chair was easier than the crutches and while indoors, you didn’t want to put extra strain on your wrist or leg. “We could order in.”

“I’m not really hungry,” you replied, heading for the sitting room. “Can we just watch some Netflix or something?”

Jensen sighed, following you through the apartment and dropping himself onto the couch. “You wanna come sit up here?” he asked but you shook your head and he tried not to look too crestfallen. 

Every night since you’d come back to Vancouver, you’d snuck into his bed. Maybe now your mom was gone, there wouldn’t be so much sneaking and Jensen had hoped you felt safe with him. Those thoughts grew a little more doubtful as you chose to remain in the wheelchair, flicking aimlessly through Netflix.

“I’m gonna order a pizza,” he said, when you hadn’t chosen anything for a few moments. “You might not be hungry but I am.” He patted his belly. “Growing boy.”

“Uh-huh,” you responded without moving and Jensen stared at you before frowning and picking up his cell. He dialed his favorite restaurant and ordered his usual, asking you again if you wanted anything but you simply shook your head.

The food arrived quickly and Jensen kept offering it over but you ignored him, holding yourself stiffly in the chair, avoiding all contact with him. Finally, he put the pizza down, looking at you. When you didn’t notice, he took the tv remote, turning it off.

“Talk to me,” he begged and you stared straight ahead at the blank television. “Y/N, please,” Jensen whispered. “You’re worrying me.”

You burst into tears, taking yourself by surprise as much as you did him. You’d thought the tears were done, run out, that you were dry. But apparently…

Jensen collapsed to his knees in front of you, holding out his arms and you pushed yourself out of the chair, letting him catch you and cradle you on the floor as you cried, clinging to his shirt with your fingers poking through your cast. You didn’t know how long you were sat there but Jensen didn’t complain or tell you it was enough.

Slowly, your sobs turned to sniffles and Jensen picked you up, setting you down on the couch in his lap. He turned the television back on and flicked through the films, choosing one he knew would relax you. When you frowned and glanced at him, he shrugged. “Always works when I babysit Shep,” he explained as the starting scenes of Finding Nemo started to play.

You didn’t say anything to that, allowing him to move you so you were the little spoon to his big spoon, his thick arms surrounding you protectively.

“You can talk to me,” he murmured, kissing the shell of your ear. “I’m not gonna push. When you’re ready, I’m here.” He brushed his nose against the back of your neck. “I’m always gonna be here,” he reaffirmed and you nodded.

That night, you didn’t have to sneak into his bed.

*****

May rolled in with a heavy storm. It rained for three days, leaving you stuck indoors. Jensen was fine with the downtime, not having any conventions or other publicity events to attend. You, on the other hand, started to get a bit restless.

Deciding to go back onto social media after three weeks was daunting but you knew you couldn’t avoid it. Your first stop was Facebook and you smiled as you read the well wishes from fans. Thinking it wasn’t so bad afterall, you loaded your Twitter profile, scrolling through the tweets from the other cast members.

The rumor mill was in full flow. You frowned as you read through the comments from less-well-meaning fans, how they had speculated that you and Jensen were an item, the TMZ link to photos showing you and him at the airport, showing off all your bruises and casts. No one had an exact idea of what happened to you but the ideas floating around were not far from the mark.

“You okay?” Jensen asked and you jumped, just as lightning filled the apartment. A rumble of thunder sounded afterwards and you nodded, looking up at him. His eyes caught your phone and he frowned. “You’re going back on Twitter?”

“I figured it was time,” you sighed, closing the browser on your phone. “It’s not so bad.”

He grimaced. “Can’t say I was too happy about the paps at the airport,” he grumbled, shifting to pull you closer into the crook of his arm. “But if you feel like you can handle it....”

“It’s a few comments. I’m more worried about how you feel about the rumors flying around. TMZ heard we’re engaged,” you scoffed and Jensen chuckled.

“TMZ make shit up to get hits. They’re click bait,” he decided, shaking his head. His phone started to ring and he frowned, picking it up and looking at the screen. “It’s Andrew,” he said, pressing the button to answer. “Hey,” he greeted.

The conversation was one-sided from your end but the look on Jensen’s face wasn’t good as he listened. When he said goodbye and hung up, looking over at you. “What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he murmured, barely looking at you. “Andrew’s sending out the scripts and wanted to warn us. He knows you’re here with me, that you don’t wanna go back to your apartment.” You nodded, chewing your bottom lip with concern. “They’re writing Charity out of the first three episodes. To give you more time to recover,” he added, like it made the news softer to bear.

You sighed, sitting back and fiddling with the edge of your wrist cast. “I was kinda expecting it. Well, I’m actually waiting for them to write me out altogether.”

“No,” Jensen said firmly. “Andrew said they won’t do that. Charity might have only been with us a couple of seasons but she’s a fan favorite. You know she is.”

The cast was breaking a little at the edges and you dug your thumbnail under the nail of your forefinger, trying to pry out a piece of plaster stuck there. Jensen didn’t speak and you didn’t look at him, thinking about your options. Charity had become such a big part of your life, as well the Winchesters’, but you knew you weren’t going to last forever on the show.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jensen whispered, reaching out to grasp your chin gently and force you to look at him. “You’re not going anywhere. They’re gonna build up to a big storyline and it’ll be better than ever.”

“Maybe it’s better if they write me out,” you said slowly and quietly, withdrawing from him. “I’m… I’m not ready to go back to work.”

“We haven’t got worry about that for weeks yet,” Jensen frowned, shaking his head. “And we’re -”

“What’s with the collective nouns?” you said, staring at him. “Everything’s been “we” since… since  _ we _ came back. You’re not attached to me, Jensen, there’s no “we” about any of this. You can walk away!” You didn’t know where the emotional burst was coming from but Jensen’s face was a mask of shock as you continued to rant, tears streaming down your cheeks. “You weren’t attacked. You weren’t raped.” He flinched but you didn’t stop. “You haven’t had everything stripped away from you, you’re not broken or damaged or… or…”

He knew the second you were done, as the sobs became too much and your entire body just gave out. His arms caught you, holding you against his firm chest as you cried out all the tears you thought you’d used. The scent of his sweater, mixed with the charged air from the storm, was enough to slowly calm you, neither of you speaking as thunder rumbled through the sky outside.

When you’d finally stopped crying, you remained still, clutching the fabric of his sweater tightly, doing nothing but sniffling miserably against him. Jensen kept holding you, resting his cheek against your head.

“You’re right,” he murmured, “I didn’t lose everything.” You sucked in a breath, your whole body trembling as you pushed away from him to sit up straight. Jensen’s eyes were shining in the lamplight as he watched you. “But I almost did.” You didn’t know what to say to that so you remained quiet. “It’s selfish,” Jensen continued, his fingers brushing over your uninjured leg, “because I’m saying it now and not when I should have. Because I let you walk out of that bar. It’s selfish because it’s got to be me. It’s got to be me that helps you heal because if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been hurt.”

Silence fell over the room, nothing but the soft patter of rain on the windows and the low buzz of the credits rolling on the television. The thunder sounded further away than before and the lightning had faded to brief blips of light in the distance.

You stared at him, not a single clue of what you were supposed to say to that. Jensen thinking this was his fault was stupid. Saying he had to be the one to take care of her out of some sort of guilt? Well, that just made you feel even worse. He was a single guy who could have spent his time off doing something fun and here he was, stuck with you out of some obligation he’d convinced himself he had.

“You’re an idiot,” you blurted out. His face crumbled and you internally mocked yourself for your less than smooth outburst. “I mean because you think this is your fault. What were you going to do? Wrestle me to the ground in the bar so I didn’t leave? Jared was using you like a zimmer frame.” Jensen blocked, opening his mouth to argue. “No. This is not on you, Jen. It’s not on me. It’s not on anyone except the creep that attacked me. He’s the only one.”

“But -”

He only managed one word before you cut him off again. “Jensen, I was raped. I shouldn’t be blaming myself for walking out, I shouldn’t be blaming myself for drinking and you shouldn’t be blaming yourself for not restraining my stubborn ass.  _ He _ should be blamed for doing what he did.”

You were crying again but this time they were angry tears and you wiped them away ferociously. Jensen reached out, catching your hand. “You’re right.”

With a nod, you took a deep breath. “I think I should go home,” you whispered. “You have a life, Jen, and I’m keeping you from it.”

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head and sniffing back the tears in his eyes. “Didn’t you hear a word I said?” he asked, cupping your cheek. “I almost lost  _ everything _ , Y/N. Because I almost lost  _ you _ .”

“Jensen,” you murmured, nuzzling into his cheek. “I…”

He cut you off, shaking his head. “It’s not fair of me to put this on you, not now. I’m here. Not matter what. I’m not giving up anything for you and if I was, it wouldn’t matter because you’re more important to me.” His thumb stroked over your cheek. “And you’re not going home.” With a pause, he stuttered, “u-unless you really want to, I can’t keep you here.”

You smiled, placing your hand over his. “Thank you, Jen,” you whispered.

Jensen’s smile was wide and reached his eyes, crinkling the corners adorably. “You don’t need to thank me,” he said, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead. “Ever.”


	5. Chapter 5

When it finally stopped raining, Jensen suggested going out. You were getting good on your crutches and didn’t really need the chair anymore, so a short trip into the city wouldn’t be a problem. He called for a car as you showered and dressed, feeling a little more human despite the requirement for plastic bags over your casts.

It was odd, how cathartic screaming at Jensen had been a few nights before. You felt like saying it out loud, accepting it had happened, was a step towards being yourself again. With no memory of the act, it might have been easier, if it wasn’t for the nightmares conjuring their own design on the events of that night.

The mall was quiet and you wandered in and out of shops with Jensen, both of you wearing hats and sunglasses to try and be incognito. There hadn’t been any new articles or rumors but you weren’t intending on giving them more fodder for their gossip columns.

Shopping was an easy way to pass the time but by lunch, you were exhausted from dragging yourself around on the crutches. Jensen suggested lunch before the drive back to his apartment and you readily agreed.

Halfway through your sandwich, your phone started to ring. It startled you a little as you reached for it - the only people who called you were your mom and Jared, neither of whom would be calling at this time of the day. You frowned at the unknown number, answering it quickly.

“ _ Miss Y/L/N? _ ” It was a feminine voice, familiar but you couldn’t place it.

“Speaking?” you replied, as Jensen stopped eating to look at you.

“ _ It’s Detective Mallion, Nashville PD?” _

Your blood ran cold and you froze, not able to take your eyes off of the splodge of ketchup on the front of Jensen’s shirt. “Oh. Hi,” you croaked, clearing your throat.

“ _ I’m just calling to let you know that we have apprehended a suspect who matches the DNA from your case _ ,” the woman on the other end of the phone said. “ _ We know you’re not based in Nashville but we were wondering if we could email you some photos, see if anything jogs your memory so we can identify him for witness testimony? _ ”

You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until your lungs began to burn. On the one hand, they had him, they could prosecute him. You’d have justice. But on the other hand… you didn’t know if you wanted to remember. If you wanted to put a face,  _ any _ face, to your attacker.

“Y/N?” Jensen asked, reaching across the table and you jumped, forgetting he was there. “Are you okay? Who is it?”

“It’s Detective Mallion from Nashville PD,” you repeated automatically. “Sorry, I’m with Jensen and we’re… it’s a public place and I don’t, I’m not sure how to process this -” You held out the phone to Jensen, shaking your head, unable to get through the initial thought.

They had him. You didn’t have to think every male that came near you, that you didn’t know, was a possible threat.

“Hi?” Jensen said, listening to the detective. He nodded and hummed, absorbing the information. “No, I don’t…” He looked up, catching your eye. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. Is it a requirement for prosecution?” Silence and you dropped your head into your hands, trying to control your breathing. Your heart was pounding and hands shaking; everything was too loud and too vivid.

Jensen’s words faded into the cacophony of noise surrounding you and you slammed your hands over your ears, squeezing your eyes shut, trying not to let any of it get to you. Something brushed your arm and you immediately reacted, jumping up, making to run from the danger, from the noise -

Your leg didn’t take your weight and the cast slipped on the tiled floor. You went down, putting your arms out in front of yourself instinctively as you met the floor.

All there was then was pain.

*****

“You’ve managed to break your wrist again,” Doctor Cho sighed as he held up your x-rays. You were sat on the examining table with a cold compress to the egg on your forehead, Jensen stood beside you with worry all over his face. “I believe what you described at the food court was a panic attack.”

“It was the first time she’d been out,” Jensen murmured, leaning in close to you but not touching. “I made her jump when I touched her arm because she’d zoned out.”

You glared at him. “You are such a martyr,” you growled. “I’m the idiot who forgot she had a broken ankle.”

The doctor smiled at the banter between you before turning the main light back on and picking up your chart. “You’re going to need a new cast,” he informed you, signing something off. “There’s a prescription for anti-anxiety medication and some sleeping pills. Panic attacks are often caused by a lack of sleep. They’re mild so they won’t give you that nasty hangover but don’t drive.”

You held up the busted cast on your wrist, wincing as you felt the morphine wearing off. “I couldn’t if I wanted to,” you griped, pouting. Jensen chuckled.

“She’s got her own chauffeur at the moment,” he commented and you hit him with your good hand. “Can she get a funky color on her cast? Or do you only do that for kids?”

“Actually, we’ve got more colors than ever,” Doctor Cho replied. “The Spiderman and Batman variants are only available in pediatrics.”

You pouted even more. “Awww, Batman? Wish I was a kid,” you moaned, making Jensen laugh more and the doctor smiled again.

“How about we go for a nice subtle pink?” he asked.

Jensen slapped his knee. “Bonus if it glows, won’t lose her then.” He leaned in a little more, jostling you with his elbow and you smiled, shaking your head and wincing when your headache got a little worse.

“Not gonna lose me anyway, dick,” you retorted.

Once the new cast was on, Jensen led you out to the front of the hospital to wait for Cliff with the car. He scoped the area in case of paparazzi, finding it clear and you stood on your crutches, anxiously waiting, wanting to get back to the safety of the apartment.

Pulling out his phone, Jensen frowned, seeing a message from Jared. He opened it and went still; you couldn’t help but notice his sudden change in demeanor. “What’s wrong?” you demanded and his eyes met yours as Cliff pulled up. “Jensen?”

He held up his phone, showing you a video clip. From the mall. With a very distinct you, standing up and flailing to the floor, knocking yourself out clean. Above it, the caption “ **_Supernatural Star Has Seizure?_ ** ”.

Your jaw dropped and you took the phone, scrolling through the comments, your tunnel vision blocking out the nice comments, zeroing in on the vicious trolls.

_ She’s faking. _

_ How long is this publicity stunt going to go on for? _

_ Are they killing this bitch off next season? _

_ If Jensen is dating her, he’s punching below his weight. _

_ Look at her fat ass fall! _

Tears welled in your eyes and Jensen quickly took the phone back, ushering you into the car and ordering Cliff to drive. “A fan caught it,” Jensen whispered, firing off a text to his agent. “I’m gonna get in contact with Andrew, okay?”

“I have to tell the truth,” you murmured, looking out of the window as Cliff guided the car back through the city. “I have to tell everyone what happened.”

“Is that really a good idea?” Jensen asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Why not? Am I supposed to be ashamed of what happened to me?” you demanded, directing your anger at him and Jensen sighed, letting you like always. You stopped yourself, covering your eyes with your hand for a moment. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you but I’m taking it out on you because you’re the only one here.” Sinking back into your seat, you sighed dejectedly. “I’m a bitch, I’m sorry.”

“I get it,” he soothed and you frowned.

“Please, just tell me I’m a huge mega bitch. Don’t accept me acting that way. You deserve better.”

Jensen smiled. “Hey, if you need a sounding board, I’m here, sweetheart. I won’t take it personally. I’m just worried about you.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Thank you. I appreciate you so much.” Reaching over the seat, you took his hand, and you saw Cliff smile out of the corner of your eye before turning all of your attention to Jensen. “Thank you,” you repeated, earnestly, moving a little closer to him.

His pupils dilated and you felt a funny flipping motion in your belly that you would have attributed to the morphine but you couldn’t with the way Jensen was looking at you. The way he was moving in, gorgeous plump lips pursed and fuck, he was actually going to kiss you.

It was sweet, slow, and lasted about five seconds. When you broke away you were panting, your face so close to him that his features were fuzzy. You pulled back and gave him a bashful grin.

“Could we put this down to wonderful morphine making me loopy?” you asked, on the off chance it would happen. Jensen grinned and slid across the seat to be right next to you. He slung his arm around your shoulder and kissed your cheek, keeping his voice low as he whispered in your ear.

“No way in hell, darlin’.”

*****

A heavy pressure on your chest and a piercing scream woke you and you bolted upright, panting heavily as you realized Jensen was sat next to you, fear and concern on his handsome features. You clutched your chest, shaking your head to clear away the nightmare of the faceless man.

“Another one?” he asked, reaching over for the glass of water on his nightstand and handing it to you.

You gulped down the water before answering. “Yeah.”

“Same thing?” You nodded and Jensen sighed. “You gonna tell Gail?”

Gail was your therapist. After the panic attacks and nightmares started, you’d begun seeing her three times a week and it was helping. You hadn’t had a panic attack in weeks and until Monday, you hadn’t had a nightmare either. Now they were starting again, every night.

It was late August. Jensen had gone back to work earlier than you, with Charity’s story not starting until the fourth episode. She was mentioned but she was missing and Castiel was trying to find her.

They’d asked you to come in for some scenes in a few days. Jensen thought that was why the nightmares had started again.

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” you muttered, settling back down. The cast had only come off of your wrist last week, which was a blessing for bedtime, but physical therapy wasn’t going well. “She’s gonna tell me to take those damn tablets again.”

“I get you don’t like them,” Jensen said, settling down behind you. “But they help.”

You sighed. He was always so supportive, sometimes you wanted to punch him. Mostly, you wanted to kiss him and Jensen seemed perfectly happy with that, even if you felt like you were letting him down. Nothing had gone beyond heavy petting and makeout sessions that lasted for hours.

Apparently, that was normal and Jensen didn’t push.

“You’re gonna be okay, you know,” Jensen murmured, kissing the back of your neck. His voice was drawn and sleepy, his breath hot against the top of your spine. “Get through this week and everything can go back to normal.”

Normal.

Could you be normal again?

“I hope so,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

The faceless man didn’t come back.


	6. Chapter 6

You had deleted Twitter and Facebook within a day of the mall video going viral amongst fans and gossips. Jensen had spoken with the guys at the CW and they’d agreed you could post a statement through Jensen’s social media and Jared would share it.

The outpouring of support was phenomenal but you didn’t go back online. You didn’t read the comments, relying on Jensen and Jared to bolster you when the latter returned from his vacation, bringing the kids and Gen with him.

They were happy to see you and Jensen actually being a thing, despite the circumstances. The Padalecki family stayed for two weeks before the proper filming began and Gen returned to Texas with the kids. Jared was always down when they left so it fell to you and Jensen to cheer him up.

Getting your cast off made that easier and the smile was back on his face before they went back to work. The conventions started up again and you declined the invitation to go to Chicago, instead opting to fly home and see your family for the weekend.

Jensen texted religiously and every single one made you smile.

You hadn’t seen him this morning, your first day back to filming. It was only a short scene, a run-up to the next episode, showing where Charity actually was the whole time. Unfortunately, it also involved a lot of blood and an uncomfortable amount of time sat in the makeup chair.

It was difficult, dealing with the stares and whispers, knowing at least half of them were imaginary. You had a target on your head; the whole world knew what had happened to you and you hated it. It was hard to trust people when all they did was treat you with pity.

Misha helped, putting you at ease throughout your scenes, making you laugh. By the time you got to the last scene, you were actually enjoying being back at work.

Then everything went wrong.

The scene called for Charity to be dragged off into the dark, along the floor. But the second the stuntman put his hand over your throat, your mind went blank to everything around you.

All you could hear was heavy breathing, the hand on your neck squeezing as the gravel ripped your clothing. Pain and terror gripped your heart in a tight vice and you screamed, lashing out and hitting the stuntman in the face. His nose cracked and spurted blood, a split second before he cursed loudly and covered his face with his hands.

You rolled away, jumping to your feet like a wild animal, not making any sense of what was going on around you. Your breathing was fast and uneven and you cried out, clutching your head. Dizziness swept through you and you staggered, lurching forward, expecting to meet the floor.

Arms caught you but you were out cold, limp and lifeless where Jared held you inches from smashing your face into the floor. Jensen appeared at his side in a second, helping him lift you and carry you towards your trailer.

It was only few moments before you roused, frowning at Jensen where he sat by your bed. “Jen?” you asked, trying to sit up. “What happened?”

His face was pale and drawn and he exhaled a shuddering breath, leaning his head on the side of your bed. “You… you went nuts, Y/N. Just flipped out, possibly broke Steve’s nose and then…” He gestured wildly. “You don’t remember?”

You shook your head, wincing as it pounded with pain, and tears started to gather in the corners of your eyes. “I don’t, I was just… just doing the scene…” Jensen was there, instantly, wrapping his arms around you as you sobbed, unable to stop his own tears falling. “Did I really break Steve’s nose?”

Jared walked into the room, ridiculously silent for such a giant man. “No. It’s not broken. Bruised but not broken,” he assured you. “And he totally understands.” His eyes moved to Jensen. “Take her home. They’re done with the shots for today.”

“What?” you asked, jerking your head up. “But we weren’t finished…”

Jensen took your hand, squeezing it tightly. “We can do them another day. Right now, I wanna get you home.”

When you looked up at Jared, you saw him nodding his head, clearly in support of what Jensen wanted. You saw no way to fight them and your headache was getting worse by the moment. “Fine,” you relented and Jensen pulled away, grabbing his phone from his pocket.

“Cliff?”

He asked the bodyguard to bring the car around as Jared sat next to you, touching your shoulder and rubbing it gently. “No one expects you to be fine, Y/N,” he said slowly, “it’s okay to not be okay.”

“I don’t know what happened,” you murmured, looking away, just Jensen hung up the phone and gave you a tight smile.

“He’ll be here in a minute.”

“Jensen?” you whispered, barely able to look him in the eyes. “I wanna go back to my place.” His face froze in a mask of horror and Jared frowned. “I’m… I think maybe I need a little space?” It was visible when he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing and Jensen nodded slowly.

“Okay. I’ll ask Cliff to take you there,” he affirmed, hearing the toot of the Range Rover horn outside. “You ready?”

*****

Jensen didn’t come in and you felt awful with the way he looked at you as Cliff drove him away from your apartment block. The media had long lost interest in you after your statement - having the truth ruined their fun, you supposed - and you’d come back several times for clean clothes and other personal items.

You weren’t expecting it to feel like someone else’s home.

After pottering around a little, checking your post and steadfastly ignoring the two scripts sat on the coffee table. Jensen had gotten them too but he was more in the habit of reading the day before - he didn’t like spoilers. When you went through the kitchen, you noticed how unkempt everything was.

You had to clean. That usually made you feel better.

Five hours later, you were scrubbing the kitchen floor, every surface sparkling and every piece of fabric smelling fresh, like bleach and lavender. You barely heard your phone ringing on the kitchen counter and just about picked up to hear Jensen greeting you.

“Hey,” you responded, unexpectedly relieved to hear his voice.

“ _ You okay _ ?” he asked and you nodded, popping the “p” when you replied with a brief “yep”. “ _ What have you been doing _ ?”

“Cleaning.”

“ _ Cleaning _ ?”

You laughed a little. “Yeah. This place was a mess.”

Jensen was quiet for a moment and you could hear his steady breathing. “ _ Is this a permanent thing _ ?” he asked and the fear in his voice made you frown. “ _ I mean, I understand if you’ve had enough of me, _ ” a nervous laugh split his words, “ _ I can get a bit hard to live with. _ ”

“No,” you assured him, leaning against the refrigerator. “I just… I don’t know what I needed.”

“ _ Do you want me to come over _ ?”

It was a quick decision to make and you blurted out a “yes” before he chuckled. A knock sounded at the door and you moved to open it. “Hold on, there’s someone at the door.” Opening it, you almost dropped your phone, staring at Jensen in the hallway, his phone held to his ear.

“That’s good because I’m already here,” he quipped, grinning and you ran to him, jumping into his arms as he laughed. “I’m really glad you’re not sick of me,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours, noses touching tips. 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you replied, smiling. “Are you coming in or not?” Jensen kissed you, hard, pushing you backward into the apartment and kicking the door shut with his foot. You clung to him, responding eagerly to the kiss as he shrugged his coat off. “Jensen?” you mumbled, voice muffled by his lips and he pulled back, looking down at you with misty eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Bedroom,” you ordered and Jensen nodded, hoisting you up into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. You yelped in surprise and laughed, holding on tightly as he carried you through your apartment to the bedroom.

Both of you landed on the bed with a thud and a grunt, giggling as you tugged at the other’s clothing. Jensen was topless first and he moaned when your nails dragged over his firm stomach, through the thin trail of hair leading down to his pants.

“You okay?” he asked, checking in and you nodded.

“I am,” you insisted, fingertips creeping into his waistband and Jensen smiled, kissing you again. He let you take the lead, not resisting at any point as you unbuckled his pants, running your fingers over the bulge covered by his boxers. 

You moved back a little, giving yourself enough room to pull your shirt off, tossing it to the side. Jensen’s eyes darkened at your bare breasts and he tugged you closer.

When your bare skin touched his, he groaned, a long delectable sound that sent shivers down your spine. “God, Y/N…”

You kissed him, hooking your legs around his before breaking away, breathing heavily. “Jensen,” you whispered, your pleading tone cracking on the last syllable of his name. “Touch me.” He smiled and laughed in relief, bending to press his mouth to yours again.

“I’m already touching you,” he joked, wiggling his fingers on your arms.

“You know what I mean, you tease,” you chided, smirking.

Jensen nodded, rubbing your arms with his thumbs. “I don’t wanna hurt you. Or rush this and…” You reached up, pressing a finger against his lips.

“I get it, I do. But that…  _ that _ was something out of my control. This is us. Me and you.” You thought back to your argument weeks earlier. “We,” you added, as an injoke and Jensen smiled widely. “I know you won’t hurt me. I know you wouldn’t push me. But it’s been months of kisses and groping and goddamn, Jensen, would you just fuck me already?”

He laughed, kissing you to silence you and you moaned against his mouth, trying to scold him. And then his hands cupped your breasts, thumbing your nipples and you all but turned to goo in his arms. Jensen didn’t stop kissing you the whole time, breaking apart only to breath and finally, when he moved to pull your pants down your legs.

Stripping his own, he came up against you, nude and hard and you sucked in a breath, seeking out another caress from his lips. His hands were on your ass, pulling you flush against him and the almost rubber-band sensation in your belly stretched thinner, almost breaking just from this brief contact.

“You okay?” he asked again and you nodded, clutching at his shoulders. 

“Please,” you whispered, kissing him hard enough to make him struggle for breath. “Need you, Jen.”

His fingers slid around your hip, pressing down between your thighs and you bit your bottom lip, sucking in an apprehensive breath. Jensen kissed you, keeping you ground as he touched you, knowing exactly how get you off like this. You moaned into his mouth, keeping your eyes closed as Jensen’s unique scent surrounded you.

It felt like a cleansing when he coaxed you to climax with just two fingers on your clit, stroking you until your fingers were clutching his arms, nails digging into his tanned skin. Jensen kissed along your jaw, pushing you onto your back.

“I love you,” he murmured, “so much.”

The confession wasn’t new but it felt like it every single time. The depth of Jensen’s feeling continued to astound you, the way he fit with you and knew exactly how to move with you. Although tragedy brought you together, you would never regret finding him.

“You ready?” Jensen asked, using his knees to spread your lips and you nodded, locking your eyes on his as the tip of his cock pressed into you. It didn’t hurt and for a second, you were expecting to freak out… but Jensen held still, waiting for you, leaving the control entirely in your hands.

Sliding your hands up from his shoulders, you cupped his face and drew him into a deep kiss, lifting your feet and hooking them around his waist, urging him closer. Jensen groaned into your mouth and let you guide him, breaking from your lips with a desperate gasp when his hips came flush with your thighs.

You smiled, rubbing your nose against his, closing your eyes because it hurt a little to look at him so close. “I love you too,” you whispered, kissing him again.

There wasn’t any more talk after that. Words were taken up by kisses and moans, the sound of skin on skin and gasps of pleasure. Jensen took his time, following your reactions, letting you hold everything against him. When you came, you cried out against his lips and dragged him over the edge with you.

Afterward, neither of you were inclined to move. Your bedsheets were tossed aside as you lay huddled in his arms, his cheek resting against your forehead. At some point, both of you fell asleep, your phone waking you suddenly and you scrambled to answer it, darting nude through the apartment with only a sheet haphazardly wrapped around you.

“Hello?” you gasped, out of breath. Jensen emerged in his boxer shorts, leaning against the doorframe for a second before deciding to make coffee. You followed him with your eyes, admiring his ass in the thin fabric. 

“ _ Miss Y/L/N _ ?”

The voice sounded vaguely familiar. “This is she,” you replied. “Sorry, who is this?”

“ _ I’m sorry, _ ” the feminine voice exclaimed and your stomach dropped as you realized who it was. “ _ It’s Detective Mallion from Nashville PD. We spoke a few weeks ago?” _

“Yeah,” you whispered, glancing over at Jensen, who had his back to you.

“ _ I’m sorry to call you so early, _ ” you looked up at the clock, unaware that you and Jensen had spent the whole night asleep and it was six am. No wonder he was making coffee. “ _ But it’s our process to inform anyone involved in a case when the defendant is going to court. _ ”

“You’re prosecuting?” you asked.

There was a pause. “ _ We are, _ ” the detective confirmed. “ _ Gary McKinley has been charged with rape and attempted murder, as well as assault and battery charges and theft. We would like you to meet with our prosecutor. _ ”

“That’s his name?” you blurted out, catching Jensen’s attention.

“ _ Oh, I’m sorry, we thought you knew. We received a request from you for the information, I thought - _ ” The woman trailed off and you stared at Jensen, who was looking at you with a guilty expression and your heart shattered.  _ “The trial is going to be in Nashville. Are you able to attend or would you prefer to give evidence via videolink? We can arrange that, if you request it. _ ”

It was too much at once and you swallowed, knowing that a name was nothing. You needed to know what he looked like, needed to be in the same room as him and show him that he had  _ not _ broken you.

“No, I can come to Nashville. When?”

“ _ The trial is set for October _ ,” Detective Mallion said and you sucked in a breath, nodding. Four weeks. Four weeks to prepare for this and find out what the fuck Jensen had been playing at. “ _ I will mail the details to you. Is your home address the same?” _

She was referring to  _ your _ apartment. The one you were about to give up to start a new chapter with Jensen because you loved him and trusted him. You fixed your eyes on his and sighed. “Yes. My home address is the same.”


	7. Chapter 7

Jensen left for work without a word. You didn’t know if he was coming back or if this was it. He’d done something, got hold of the information about your attacker without your permission and he’d lied to you. It felt like a betrayal and it hurt that after everything…

You busied yourself, cleaning out your apartment and half of the things that didn’t matter to you anymore. By the time you were done, there were six huge boxes for Goodwill and seven bags for the dumpster round the back of the building.

A knock on the door distracted you from the music you were listening to as you shopped online for new furniture and you stood up, walking to open the door, leaving the chain on. It was habit more than anything but as soon as you saw Jared outside, you grinned and unchained it.

“Hey!” you greeted and he smiled uneasily. “What?” you asked.

“I knew too,” he blurted out and you knew he’d seen Jensen this morning. The happiness at seeing him faded away and you turned, stomping back off to the living room. Jared slunk into the apartment, closing the door and looking around. Everything was bare and stripped; you’d had a clear out, judging by the boxes and bags by the door. “Spring cleaning?”

“What do you want, Jared?” you asked, facing him from where you were going through your ridiculous stash of books, seeing what ones were worth donating.

“To apologize. Me and Jensen… we needed to know. We weren’t going to tell you unless you asked.”

“You lied to me!” you exclaimed, face going red. “You used my name to get information I didn’t want to be public.”

Jared shook his head. “We didn’t make it public. Only me and Jensen knew, okay?” You narrowed your eyes and Jared backtracked. “And Gen. That’s it.” He stepped closer, reaching out to you and you avoided his hand, folding your arms across your chest. “Y/N, we wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Did they release it to the public?” you asked in a quiet voice. “I know they normally do…” The was a slow and reluctant nod from the giant man and you sighed, turning away from your books and sinking into the couch. “So I would have known eventually.” Jared moved and sat down next to you. “He’s going to trial.”

“I heard,” he admitted.

“They want me to give another statement, to testify in court. I said I would go,” you continued and Jared nodded, indicating he knew that too. “Jensen doesn’t keep anything from you, huh?” He grinned and you looked down at your hands. “I need to show him, show that creep he didn’t break me. That I’m strong.”

“Wayward AF,” Jared teased and you smiled before a light bulb switched on in your head, distracting you from the problem at hand.

You sat up straight. “I know what I wanna do,” you whispered. “A campaign. You guys do them all the time. I should use Charity’s popularity to raise money for women like me. So they can be strong too.” There was an excited light in your eyes that made Jared smile and you looked over at the clock. “Oh shit!”

“What?” Jared exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

“I’m late for my appointment with Gail. Last thing I need is the studio on my back about not going to my sessions,” you babbled, slipping on your shoes. “Could you drive me?”

“Er,” he scrubbed the back of his head, “Jensen’s in the car downstairs,” he confessed and you frowned, then rolled your eyes and grabbed your purse.

“That’s fine,” you said, opening the door and waving him over. “Come on!” Jared slipped past you and you locked the door, jogging down the stairs after him. Jensen was sat at the front of your building, the engine off as he played on his phone while waiting for Jared to text him. He jumped when you opened the passenger door and climbed in.

Jared gave him an apologetic smile.

“I’m late for my appointment with Gail,” you informed Jensen, smiling and leaning in to kiss him. He stared at you in bewilderment, glancing to Jared in confusion.

“What did you do to her? You were five minutes!” Jared simply raised his shoulders in a shrug, his face a mask of uncertainty.

You shook your head, patting his leg. “I’ve decided not to hold a grudge against you,” you explained, sounding carefree. “Life is too short to be an asshole.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “Okay. Gail. Right.” The car roared to life under his touch and he pulled away from the kerb. He’d driven you to Gail’s enough times that he didn’t need to ask the way and stopped right outside for you to jump out. “Y/N…”

You turned, looking at him as you were halfway out of the car, scrambling back in and kissing his cheek. “Come by my apartment later,” you ordered softly and Jensen smiled, nodding. Then you were gone, running from the car into the office building Gail was based in and disappeared from his sight.

“That was abrupt,” Jared commented as Jensen stared at the empty passenger seat. “She shouted a little then sort of changed her mind. You gonna wait for her?”

“Nah, she’ll be in there for at least an hour. I’ll drop you home and come back. See if I can’t make some sense of this. Her moods lately…”

“Don’t worry, man, she’s gonna be fine,” Jared assured him, leaning forward to clap him on the shoulder. “You just gotta be there when she needs you. And despite outward appearances,” Jared paused, sighing heavily. “I don’t think she’s okay right now.”

*****

 

The problem with recovery was how easy it was to put it to one side and focus on something to the point of being obsessive. And that was exactly what you did.

With minimal scenes to film, you spent all your time setting up the campaign. You worked with Briana and Kim, joining them on the Wayward campaign, creating the “Strong AF” branch, designing shirts, buttons and other accessories.

Jensen barely saw you for a week. He stopped coming over on the third day, unable to get your attention from Briana and Kim and you didn’t notice he’d stopped texting until the Saturday. You’d skipped three therapy sessions and Gail had called but you hadn’t answered, too caught up in the excitement of doing something good.

It launched with great success and it was only then you realised Jensen wasn’t there to celebrate with you. You finally saw the texts, reading through them, each one making you frown more. The last one, no punctuation, no kisses, just a plain “let me know ur ok” was sent twenty-four hours ago.

He didn’t answer when you called and you dialed Jared, who answered after the fifth ring. “Jared?”

“ _ Hey, Y/N! _ ” he answered cheerily. “ _ Was beginning to wonder where you were. _ ”

“Sorry,” you replied honestly. “I guess I got a little carried away.”

“ _ The campaign’s going great though? Jensen said it was your launch day today?” _

“Yeah. Um, have you seen him? He’s… he’s not answering my calls.”

Jared cleared his throat. “ _ He didn’t tell you _ ?”

“Tell me what?”

“ _ Oh. He went home for the weekend. There’s a technical problem on the set they want for next episode so we got a couple extra days off before we can resume. _ ” His words rang in your ears, dismay echoing through you. Jensen wasn’t in Vancouver? He went home and didn’t tell you because you hadn’t bothered to reply to him, too caught up in your newest project.

What if he thought he was just like the campaign? A distraction. Something to help you get through.

“Jared, was he… was he okay?”

“ _ Yeah, _ ” Jared replied, sounding surprised by the question. “ _ Maybe a little quiet. Try calling him again. _ ”

You nodded, closing your eyes. “I will. Thanks, Jare.”

“ _ Hey, Y/N, _ ” he said, stopping you from saying goodbye. “ _ I’m flying out in a few hours to see Gen and the kids. You wanna come with? _ ”

Glancing around like your kitchen might hold the answer, you considered it. You hadn’t visited Austin in ages and spending time with Tom, Shep and Odette did make you feel better. But you weren’t sure when you’d be wanted for filming. “I haven’t had the schedule yet.”

“ _ Entire set is out, _ ” Jared informed you and you smiled. “ _ They won’t need you for at least a few days. Come on, the kids would love to see you. And I know Jensen would too. _ ”

“Okay,” you decided. “I’ll see if I can book a flight.”

“ _ No need, _ ” Jared replied, a smirk in his voice. “ _ I already took care of it. Gotta love these apps. I’ll pick you up in two hours, okay? _ ”

Ending the call, you dragged your suitcase out from the hallway closet, packing a few outfits and some shoes. On a whim, you dragged a nice dress and some sandals along with the script you had yet to read. By the time you’d packed, showered and got everything together, Jared was outside, knocking on the door.

It was a relatively short flight to Texas when you managed to sleep the entire way. When you reached Jared’s house, you were confronted with two excited boys and Odette dribbling all over your shirt as soon as she got hold of you.

The excitement gave way to exhaustion from travelling and when the kids were settled in bed, Gen produced a bottle of wine and three glasses. For an hour, you covered topics from the campaign to going back to work until the conversation turned to Jensen.

“Have you seen him?” you asked Gen, who shook her head. “He still isn’t answering his phone.”

“He text me this morning,” Jared frowned, his comment only making you feel worse. “He’s golfing with his dad tomorrow but he was going to come over in the evening for dinner.” Gen gave him a look, annoyed this was the first she was hearing of it. “Oh, like you wouldn’t cook enough,” he teased and her frown broke into a grin.

“Does he know I’m here?” Your voice was quiet and hesitant and Jared nodded, smiling softly, replacing the dismay with the smallest amount of relief. “Oh. So he’s not avoiding me.”

“I think he wants to talk face to face,” Jared said slowly, indicating that he  _ knew _ rather than  _ thought _ . “Stop worrying, Y/N. Jensen loves you. You just gotta let him in.”

You nodded, sipping your wine, just as the baby monitor erupted with a wail. Jared stood up, kissing Gen’s temple.

“I got her,” he insisted, padding off with bare feet towards the stairs. Gen sat back, smiling in his direction. It was such a look of adoration, almost dopey, and you wondered if that was how you looked when you were gazing at Jensen.

“You’re so in love with him, it’s sickening,” you joked and Gen laughed. “God, I could only hope to have what you guys have.”

Gen frowned, tilting her head as she swirled the liquid in her wine glass. “Why can’t you have it? I know for a fact Jensen wants it too.”

You shook your head, looking away wistfully. “I’m too damaged. Every turn, it feels like I’m fucking up. He deserves better than me. Better than someone broken.” She didn’t say anything for a moment and you dared to look at her, to see that same look of pity everyone gave you.

She was scowling at you.

“You’re an idiot,” she informed you, matter-of-factly. “You create this whole campaign about not being a victim, about being Strong AF but you’re lying to me.”

“Gen -” you started but the older woman held her hand up.

“Uh-uh, mama is talking,” she chided, “and it’s time for tough love.” She sat forward, looking at you with a serious expression on her face. “I love you, Y/N. You’re a great friend to me and Jared. But I gotta be cruel to be kind. What happened to you sucked. On a whole level I can’t begin to understand.” You nodded, sniffling a little. “But don’t let it hold you back like that. Maybe you didn’t come together under the best circumstances,” she paused, reaching out to squeeze your hand, “but Jensen  _ loves _ you, Y/N. He’d do anything for you.”

You sniffed once and then you started to cry. Gen put her glass down and moved to sit down next to you, putting her arms around you as you sobbed.

“You’re right,” you whispered, wiping at your face. “I am an idiot.”

Gen grinned, rubbing your shoulder. “At least you can admit it.”


	8. Chapter 8

The sun was hanging low over the Texas horizon and you could hear the sound of Jared’s children playing indoors, out of the heat. You’d opted to sit by the pool and read a book, enjoying some peace and quiet before dinner. Engrossed in the story, you sipped the cool fruity drink Gen had made you, not even noticing when the back door to the house opened and Jensen stepped out into the yard.

“Good book?” he asked, sitting down opposite you.

Happiness at seeing him overtook every other emotion and you dropped the novel, losing your page as you flung yourself across the small distance between the lounge chairs, flinging your arms around his neck.

Jensen laughed, holding you close and responding eagerly to the kiss. “You miss me or something?”

You smiled bashfully, nodding and touching his face. “I’m sorry I was a raging bitch,” you murmured, running your thumb over his bottom lip. “I got caught up in the shirt thing and I was excited and I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “I know that,” he replied, keeping his voice low. “It was important to you. It’s something you needed to do.” His eyes sparkled as he pulled back to look at you directly. “I wouldn’t wanna stand in the way of that.”

“You should,” you whispered, “because you’re the important thing in my life, Jen.” You sucked in a breath, pressing the tip of your nose to his briefly. “I’m kinda in love with you and I’d like to not lose you.”

Jensen chuckled, booping the end of your nose with one finger. “You’re never gonna lose me, silly.” He kissed you again, pulling you further onto his lap. “I love you too.”

The back door opened again and two bouncing young children tore out, followed by their dad with Odette perched on his hip and Gen with a huge platter balanced in her tiny hands. “Dinner’s ready!” she called, beaming as she walked down to the side of the pool. Tom and Shep were already sat at the picnic bench, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Oooo, tacos!” you exclaimed as Jared set Odette down in her little seat, a piece of cucumber in her chubby little fingers, gumming it half to death. Gen set the platter down and the boys jumped in, grabbing a taco each.

“You two all good?” Gen asked, raising an eyebrow and Jensen glanced at you.

“I think so,” he murmured and you nodded, leaning into him, closing your eyes and enjoying the scent of his aftershave. Your fingers stroked over his cheek and he smiled.

“I miss the hiatus beard,” you commented as Jared laughed. There was no question you and Jensen were due a long talk but right now, you just wanted to bask in the happiness of having him back at your side. You’d missed him, missed sleeping next to him, missed just being around him.

It felt like coming home, even if Texas had never been your home.

Home was where Jensen was.

*****

“Move in with me,” Jensen murmured, burying his face in your neck. “I know it’s soon but I hate waking up without you.”

You smiled, turning into him, the sheets tangled around your legs. Jared and Gen had offered a room for the night but Jensen booked a hotel, so you could have some privacy. The plans were to meet up with the other couple later on that day to do some sightseeing in Austin.

“I hate waking up without you too,” you admitted. “Have you got room for all my crap?”

He chuckled, nodding. “More than enough. You don’t even have to pay rent, I just want you there.”

“I’m paying my way, thank you,” you informed him, tapping his shoulder with one pointed finger.

“Is that a yes?” he asked and you grinned widely, pushing him onto his back so you were laying half across his bare chest, your nude breasts pressed into his skin. Jensen responded to the kiss you sought, moaning against your mouth. 

“It’s a yes,” you whispered, nuzzling into him.

Your phone started to ring and you hopped up,  uncaring of your nudity as you reached for your jacket, pulling your phone out, just missing the call. “Oh,” you frowned, peering at the missed call, “it’s Robert.”

Jensen sat up and you wrapped the sheet around your body. A few seconds later, your phone beeped with a voicemail alert and you dialled the number, listening to the message.

“ _ Hi, Y/N. We know you’re in Texas with the Padaleckis at the moment but we wanted to know when you were planning on flying back. There’s a meeting on Tuesday at the studio and we really need you there. I’ll call Jensen later and let him know, Jared is already aware. Speak soon _ .”

You hung up, a pool of dread in your belly. “They’re calling us in for a meeting.”

Jensen folded his hands behind his head, shrugging. “It’s probably a story run through for next season. Gotta love those spoilers.”

“Then why do I feel like they’re gonna tell us something bad?” you asked and he frowned. “Is it just me?”

“I think you’re being a little paranoid,” he admitted, pulling you back to rest in the crook of his shoulder, his hand wandering down underneath the sheet to stroke your bare hip. “Nothing bad is gonna happen. Let’s just go with the flow. Have a nice day with Gen and Jared, don’t think about work.”

You knew it wasn’t as simple as that but you nodded anyway. “I gotta call Gail later. I missed three appointments last week,” you confessed and Jensen’s frown returned. “I was so caught up and distracted and then Jared asked if I wanted to fly out here…”

“Call her now,” he mumbled, kissing your temple. “Get it done so you don’t forget.”

“In a minute,” you whispered, leaning into him a little, your fingers tugging at the sheet around his bare waist. “Wanna bask a little more.”

*****

 

The few days in Austin were what you’d needed. Time away from the bustle of work and the pressure you’d put on yourself. Gail had reprimanded you for not going to your appointments and wanted you in her office first thing on Tuesday when you’d flown back.

It was raining in Vancouver again when the plane touched down but you didn’t care. Jensen held your hand as you landed, smiling and squeezing your fingers. He wasn’t worried about the meeting – he had no need to be.

By Tuesday morning, after your appointment with Gail, you were a wreck. Nerves had you standing around on the set, watching Jensen and Jared run through their scenes. You’d seen Steve and apologised for the damage to his nose which he waved off – he knew it wasn’t your fault.

Jensen caught up to you at lunchtime, deciding to distract you with an impromptu date at the food trailer. You were quiet the whole way through, dreading the meeting – no one you’d spoken to had any idea about it.

“Hey, Misha!” Jensen called, waving over the dark haired man, who grinned widely as he approached. “You been called into the shootin’ range?”

Misha nodded, sitting in the vacant seat around the small table. “Sure have. They’re probably gonna threaten to fire me again.” He chuckled and Jensen grinned, shaking his head. “What have you heard?”

“New season arcs. New guest stars,” Jensen shrugged, leaning back, draping his arm over the back of your chair, his thumb grazing against your shoulder as if he knew you were apprehensive about the meeting.

“Well, you’re safe,” Misha grumbled. “Can’t have a show about the Winchesters without the Winchesters.”

Jensen tilted his head and you focused your eyes on one spot on the table, just as Jared joined. The conversation continued but you weren’t paying much attention. It wasn’t until Jensen’s whole hand landed on your shoulder, forcing your eyes to meet his concerned gaze.

“You okay?”

You nodded, pushing a smile onto your face. “Yeah.”

“We’re heading over to the conference suite. You coming?” he asked and you gave him another nod, standing up and following behind the three men, almost dragging your feet with worry.

The conference room was full, every writer and regular guest on the show in attendance. You greeted the other actors, taking the seat next to Jensen, clinging to his hand when he offered it, his smile attempting to reassure you that everything would be fine.

They ran through the storylines for the year, keeping it brief, barely mentioning Charity and thirty minutes later, it appeared they were done. You allowed yourself a deep sigh of relief as everyone started to file out and you stood, ready to follow but Robert and Andrew called your name.

“Y/N?”

You turned, panicked, feeling Jensen at your back. Andrew was sat down and Robert was looking at you with a kindly smile on his face. The room emptied out and Jensen laid his hand on the small of your back. “Want me to stay?”

“Yeah,” you croaked, walking back to your seat. 

“Y/N,” Robert started, “have you read the scripts for the next two episodes?” You shook your head, looking at Jensen, who hadn’t read them either. The older man sighed and looked down at Andrew, who nodded and focused on you.

“Charity is in a spot of trouble,” Andrew stated. “We’re coming up to filming episode six, which you will be in but… it’s going to be your last episode,” he finished, quietly, waiting for his statement to sink in. You sat, motionless, eyes staring straight ahead as they told you your time on Supernatural was done.

“You’re killing her off?” Jensen asked, his voice already angry. “Why? Is this because –“

“No, absolutely not,” Andrew insisted, shaking his head. “This has nothing to do with personal circumstances.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” you said quietly, not looking at any of them. “I haven’t exactly been up to par.”

Andrew laid his hand flat on the table, giving you a stern look. “What happened to you was unthinkable, Y/N,” he responded slowly, “and we are behind you 110%.” His glance to Robert didn’t reassure you and Jensen was going red in the face. “This… Charity wasn’t supposed to survive the finale.”

Your face went slack and you sank back into your seat. Andrew kept talking but you weren’t listening, too busy thinking that you’d only kept your job this long because of what had happened. They’d kept the character alive out of pity.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, unable to stop the tears from flowing and interrupting the conversation as you stood up. Without a glance back, you left the room, with Jensen hot on your heels, calling your name but you were too distraught to answer. By the time you reached the end of the corridor, he was caught up, grabbing your arms.

Instantly, you reacted, turning with your elbow to strike, catching his face with the point and Jensen yelled out in pain, crumpling to the floor. He was bleeding from the side of his head, right next to his eyes, cradling it as he struggled to get to his feet.

Realizing what you’d done, panic set in and you turned, running as fast as you could away from the man you loved and the man you’d just hurt.


	9. Chapter 9

A soft knock on the apartment door roused you from the sleep you’d eventually fallen into and when you sat up, you groaned, your head aching with the effects of yesterday. Your phone was off, dead from lack of charge and you knocked it off of the bed as you got to your feet.

The front door was bolted; obviously you’d wanted to be alone last night but the details were fuzzy. You remembered the meeting, being told they were killing Charity off and learning you should have been fired ages ago. The only reason you had a job was sympathy.

“Y/N, baby, please, open the door,” Jensen begged and guilt made your stomach churn uncomfortably. You’d hurt him, physically attacked him. Why the hell was he even trying to talk to you? “Please, I’m really worried about you.”

He sounded so broken and upset, you couldn’t bear to open the door and see the disappointment on his face. You sat, cross-legged on the floor, hair messy and falling around your shoulders, the tears starting once again. Jensen went quiet and there was a low thud as he leaned his head against the door.

“Please,” he said, voice muffled by the wood. “Y/N…”

Slowly, you got to your feet, dragging yourself towards the door, unlocking it. Jensen opened it as soon as you pulled the last bolt free, barely giving you a moment before he was inside the apartment, pulling you into his arms.

“I was so scared,” he mumbled, almost strangling you with how tight he was holding you. “You ran off and you haven’t been answering your phone –“

“’S dead,” you tried, voice raw from crying all night. You looked up, seeing the bruising and stitches on the right side of his face. Fresh tears clung to your lashes, stinging your eyes that were already bloodshot and sore. “I… I hurt you.”

“I grabbed you,” Jensen defended. “You reacted in defence, you were upset –“

“That’s not an excuse,” you said miserably, stepping back away from him, hugging yourself. “I knew it was you, I –“ With a huff of anger at yourself, you turned away, moving into the kitchen, needing to put some space between you. “I lashed out, I was angry because they only kept me on after… after… god, I’m not a fucking victim!” Your voice escalated to a wail and you picked up the nearest floral cup you hated and flung it across the room.

Before you could hit the floor in misery once more, Jensen was there, closing that space, being your cushion even when you’d hurt him. He soothed you, letting you drag him down to the linoleum, and you gave into his offer of comfort, sobbing into his arms.

“I love you,” he reaffirmed, pressing his nose into your tangled hair. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart, I promise you that here and now.”

You only cried harder.

It was a long time before you stopped, the heart-wrenching sobs turning into sniffles and whimpers, and there on your kitchen floor, Jensen just held you until you were done and dried up, pushing out of his hold to wipe at your face with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Why are you here?” you asked, sniffing unattractively.

Jensen gave you a fond smile. “I just told you why.”

For a second, you searched for a rebuttal to his words but nothing came up. Lamely, you sighed; “You’re crazy,”

He laughed.

*****

“So when does it happen?” you asked, fiddling with the hem of your clean shirt. After finding a way off the kitchen floor on wobbling legs like Bambi on friggin’ ice, you’d showered and dressed, as Jensen ordered in food, noticing you hadn’t eaten for at least twelve hours.

“I don’t know. The script’s coming out next week,” he answered, handing over the plain chow mein. You took it, peering into the box instinctively like everyone seemed to do. “You know me though -”

“Won’t read it until right before,” you sighed, stabbing your chopsticks into the noodles, pushing them around inside the tub. “Jared will know.”

Jensen was chewing on a prawn and he swallowed his mouthful before speaking again. “You’ll get the script too, sweetheart,” he assured you. “They can’t give you a sudden death like you’re in the wrong.”

You nodded, picking up a piece of bean sprout and scowling at it like it was the reason for all your misery. With a disgusted scoffing sound, you dropped the container onto the table. “I’m full.”

“You didn’t eat much,” he commented and you shook your head. “Babe…” You sat back, folding your arms over your chest and Jensen relented, his shoulders dropping in defeat. “Okay. So,” he finished his forkful of food, chewing it thoroughly and you waited for him to finish, itching to wipe the soy sauce off of his chin, “how many more times I gotta sleep alone?”

He was grinning, despite sounding like a petulant child and you couldn’t help but laugh, almost falling into his hold. “Never,” you promised, snuggling into his side. “When can I move in?”

“Yesterday,” he murmured, pressing his lips to yours. “Come on. Let’s go hire a van.”

*****

Jared bounded into the trailer, startling you. “Hey!” he practically yelled and you jumped, glaring at him from where you were reading the last script for Supernatural that you’d ever be a part of. Of course, everyone kept saying that “no one really dies on Supernatural” but you didn’t feel hopeful for a return.

Not with the way they were writing you out.

“Could you tone it down a bit?” you asked, frowning. “No one needs that much energy.”

“Sorry,” Jared grinned, flopping down onto the couch beside you. “I just got off the phone with Amell.”

“As in, Stephen?” you murmured, dragging your eyes over the script, the dialog where Dean’s admitting Charity is the best thing that ever happened to them, not knowing she was dying, meters away from them. It was tugging at her heartstrings already and she knew this was gonna piss a few fans off.

“Yeah,” he replied. “And, they’re looking for a new female villain on Arrow. Season long arc, keeps you in Vancouver a little longer…”

You looked over at him, the frown still in place. “Why wouldn’t I stay in Vancouver anyway?”

Jared shrugged. “I just thought you might have work things elsewhere. Possibly.”

“Yeah,” you drawled, giving him a look loaded with irritation, “the offers are rolling in. I’m not exactly the next Jennifer Lawrence, Jared. I’m surprised it took them this long to kill me off.”

He tisked, frowning deeply at you. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. No one really  _ dies _ -”

“Heard it,” you snapped, silencing him. “Vancouver isn’t where work is, Jared. It’s where  _ Jensen _ is. God, you pushed for this to happen for a million years and now you’re -”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down,” Jared interrupted, his frown turning serious. “Y/N, what the hell is wrong?”

A dry laugh left your lips. “They wouldn’t hire me on Arrow, Jared. I don’t know why you’re assuming they will. I’m damaged goods in Hollywood, baby.” The end of your sentence came with a flair and it only made his expression darken, something you rarely saw on his handsome face.

“You are  _ not _ damaged goods,” he said firmly, through gritted teeth. “Y/N, you are one of the brightest people I have ever known. You’ve been through a shitstorm and a half and come out the other side.” His eyes sparkling as he looked a little smug, shaking his head enough for his hat to slip backwards. “Besides, there’s no audition. Stephen wanted you on the show. He heard they were writing Charity out and requested you for the role.”

“Really?” There was disbelief in your voice. “But I’m…”

“You’re a good actress, Y/N,” Jared said earnestly. “And Stephen thinks the world of you. Come on. This could be another big part for you.” You stared at him, unable to believe what he was saying. “Give it chance. Read for the part, at least.”

Slowly, you looked back to your script. It wouldn’t hurt to try. They probably wouldn’t think you were a good fit for the part but it wouldn’t hurt to try. “What’s the part?”

“I don’t know a whole bunch about DC,” Jared confessed, smiling, “but the character is called “Eve”. Stephen says she’s gonna have at least a ten-episode run and if it’s well received, there’ll be more.” You sighed. “I really do think this would be good for you, Y/N.”

You nodded, closing the script. “I’ll read for it.”

Jared was practically beaming and you tried to feel positive about it. Before he could get any more worked up, the trailer door opened and Jensen walked in, surprised to see his girlfriend with Jared. “Hey,” he greeted, giving a little wave. Seeing the script in your hands, his expression fell. “You read it?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t -”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jensen soothed, walking past Jared to kneel beside you. “I get it. I’d wanna know too.”

Jared stood up, pointing towards the door. “I’d better go arrange that with Amell,” he chattered nervously, backing away as Jensen frowned. “I’ll let you tell him.” He was gone the next second and Jensen’s curious gaze was on you, waiting for whatever you had to tell him.

“So,” you started, taking a deep breath, “there’s a character on Arrow.”

*****

You gone into the audition with your head held high, Jensen accompanying you for backup and the casting director had loved your approach. Putting some research into the role, you were already invested in Eve’s character; she was a kick-ass villain who was going to cause a whole bunch of trouble for Team Arrow before finding a redemption arc.

Stephen seemed hopeful it would be a long-term role. You didn’t dare raise your expectations beyond the ten episodes they had planned.

Saying goodbye to Charity after so long playing her was painful and your last day on set, they through a wrap party for you. It wasn’t a final goodbye - Andrew had promised you that nothing ever truly stays dead on Supernatural and Charity would always be a fan favorite.

The episode was due to air in January, the mid-season premiere, which was months away but Jensen had already insisted he would watch it with you. Jared and Gen got in on the action and somehow it became a party.

You settled into your new job over on the Arrow lot and your new home with Jensen, both of you working to make it yours. It was nice, waking up next to him every day - on the days he didn’t have to be at the studio before you - and working so close to him meant your shared lunches could continue.

It was the end of September when your phone rang just as you were getting out of the makeup trailer, ready to call it quits for the day. You fished it out of your purse, answering quickly. “Hello?”

“ _ Hi, is that Y/N Y/L/N? _ ”

“Speaking?” you replied, recognizing the voice.

“ _ Hi, it’s Detective Mallion from Nashville PD. We hadn’t heard from you and it’s procedure to follow up with all witnesses three weeks before a trial. _ ”

The trial. Gary McKinley. You’d completely forgotten, being so focused on getting back to normal, you’d wiped away the man who’d forced you out of your normal in the first place. “Oh. Yes. Sorry. I’d… it’s been a difficult couple of months.”

There was a smile in the detective’s voice when she spoke again. “ _ I understand. We were just checking to see if you were still intending on flying to Nashville to give evidence? _ ”

You hadn’t even thought about it. Three weeks. It was such a small amount of time. The detective called your name and you realized you’d been staring. Across the lot, Jensen and Jared were walking towards you smiling. “Yes, I’m still here, sorry. It’s… only three weeks away?”

“ _ We can provide flights and accommodation. Will your partner be joining you? _ ”

“Partner?” Jensen, right. Said partner was now frowning as he perceived the strange expression on your face and the phone up to your ear. “Er, yeah, I guess so. Will you arrange it all and send me the details?”

“ _ Of course. I’ll get it arranged immediately. We’ll only need you here for your evidence. You won’t need to stay longer than that if you don’t want to. _ ”

“Thank you. I’ll wait for the email.” You hung up, forcing a smile onto your face. “Hey!”

Jensen encompassed you in a hug, kissing your temple. “Everything okay?” You nodded cheerfully. “Who was that?”

You didn’t know what possessed you to lie about it but you did anyway. “Telemarketer. I asked them to send an email confirming they’ve removed my details from their system.” Patting his chest, you kept smiling, hoping that if you kept it up long enough, they wouldn’t push. “So, what are we doing for dinner?”


	10. Chapter 10

You should have known it wouldn’t be that easy to slip by Jensen and when you’d settled into bed that evening, his arms around your waist, he finally pulled you on it. “I know it wasn’t telemarketer,” he mumbled casually and you swallowed, suddenly wide awake. “But if you don’t wanna tell me, that’s fine.”

It wasn’t and you knew it.

“It was the detective from Nashville,” you whispered, staring straight ahead. “The trial is in three weeks and they want me to give evidence.”

Jensen didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “I’ll speak to Andrew tomorrow. We’re normally on a break around that time anyway.”

“I haven’t even said I’m going yet,” you replied, frowning and turning to face him. “You’d really go with me?”

He smiled, the exhaustion on his face from three eighteen-hour days showing. “I wouldn’t let you go alone. No one should have to face that without someone to support them. It’ll be hard because I wanna kill the guy,” his eyes connected with yours, “but not as hard as it’s gonna be for you.” You felt like you were going to cry but you smiled instead, placing one hand on his cheek.

“I love you, Jensen Ackles,” you stated, leaning in to kiss him on the lips.

“Can I ask one favor?” Jensen asked, seriousness in his eyes and you nodded. “Have an extra few sessions with Gail? I know this is going to be hard and you don’t have to tell me everything. I’ll never push you. But Gail is there for that. She’s the one you can talk to when you can’t talk to me.”

You nodded again, the tears actually falling and he pulled you close, embracing you tightly, burying his face in your neck. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whispered brokenly, almost sobbing. “You’re so good to me and I’m… I’m a mess.”

“No, you’re not,” Jensen insisted, pulling back and kissing you. “You’re healing. And I’m gonna be there with you, every step of the way.”

Inside your chest, your heart thumped wildly and you smiled, leaning into him. “Thank you.”

*****

Three weeks went too quickly and on the flight to Nashville, you couldn’t stop throwing up. The network had released you and Jensen from shoots early on compassionate grounds, insisting you call if you need anything. Detective Malloy had arranged an escort from the airport to the hotel, to prevent any paps catching you out.

Of course, that didn’t stop them trying but Jared had kindly provided you with one of the beanies that covered his huge head and it worked as a disguise with a baggy sweatshirt and a pair of jeans that had been too big for years. Right now, they were feeling a little snug around the middle, probably an effect of eating too much junk food with the stress you’d been under.

Jensen had dressed in similar attire - faded jeans, a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up tight and big aviator sunglasses that hid most of his face. When you emerged from arrivals, you slipped past the handful of photographers easily.

The hotel they’d put you in was five-star, grander than most of the places you’d stayed before. Granted, you never staying in something less than a four-star on convention weekends but this place was the literal Ritz.

The detective was already waiting for you at the front desk, smiling pleasantly and you remembered her from the initial interview you gave. She shook your hand and Jensen’s, greeting you both before asking the clerk for your room keys.

“Everything is included. Witness care will be in touch to go through the proceedings but you’ve got two days before the trial starts.” Mallion took the key cards from the clerk, handing them over to you and Jensen. “We won’t need to see you until tomorrow afternoon, where we’ll take you through the schedule of witnesses and run over your statement.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, in a slight daze.

“Y/N, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. We want this to be as comfortable as possible for you, considering the circumstances. We’re confident with the DNA evidence and witness testimonies, this guy is going away for a really long time.”

The rooms she’d booked for you were on the third floor and Mallion left you with a business card so you could contact her if needed. Jensen took your bags into the room, looking around the impressive digs. You stood by the window, staring at the card in your hand.

“Hey,” he said, jostling your arm and you spooked a little, giving him an apologetic smile. “You were miles away, babe.”

“Do you… do you think I was the only one?” you asked, hesitantly and Jensen’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I mean, why did he pick me? Out of all the women in that bar, why was it me?”

“Opportunity,” Jensen muttered, cupping your face. “Don’t you go thinking you deserved this or any bullshit like that. This guy did this because he’s a monster. Because he’s a lowlife piece of shit. Even his family have disowned him.”

You frowned. “How do you know that?” Guilt crossed his face and you pulled back, looking stern. “Jensen?”

“I may have followed the case. And I’ve had a friend look into him.” He wouldn’t meet your eyes but you weren’t angry at him. You would have done the same if you’d had the stomach to. “He was just a guy. Worked in an IT firm, clean record. Until… until he attacked you. Then they found out about all of it.”

“I wasn’t the only one,” you whispered, shaking your head. “And they hadn’t caught him until then?”

“No,” Jensen confirmed, looking a little uncomfortable. “I know you probably don’t wanna know this. I don’t wanna upset you -”

“I wanna know,” you insisted. “I want to know about him. In my head… he’s not human. He’s some kind of monster, like the Winchesters hunt. And I need to normalize him. Make him weak and pathetic. Because that’s the only way I can rise above it.” The words poured out without stopping and you clapped your hand over your mouth. “Oh god, that sounds so petty.”

Jensen shook his head, taking your hand. “It’s not petty,” he replied, squeezing your fingers. “He is just a man. He fucked up. And he’s going to pay for it.”

You nodded, leaning into him. “Can we just go to bed for a bit?”

He chuckled. “It’s midday, Y/N.”

“I’m tired,” you replied and he smiled, lifting your hand to kiss the tips of your fingers, tugging you towards the bed and you willingly sank into the soft, comfortable mattress, letting Jensen’s bigger body shield you. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“Always,” he muttered back.

*****

The next morning, you were a bundle of nerves, spending most of the wee hours in the bathroom, throwing up the nice meal Jensen had taken you out for the night before. With the trial less than twenty-four hours away, Jensen was worrying, unconvinced you could handle the stress you were putting on your body.

“Baby, you barely ate last night,” he murmured, rubbing your back and holding your hair out of the way as he tried to soothe you. You’d been retching fruitlessly for thirty minutes and you were exhausted. “Maybe we should call the detective. Tell her you’re not well enough.”

“No,” you groaned. “It’s just nerves. Can you get me a drink of water?”

Jensen nodded, standing up and leaving the bathroom and you laid your head on your arm across the toilet seat, groaning in discomfort as your stomach churned. You closed your eyes, wondering how much of the morning was left, when your brain threw up a warning signal.

Morning.

Sickness.

Jeans were a little snug.

Your eyes snapped open and you sat bolt upright as Jensen walked back in with a bottle of water, reading the label. “Boy, they sure have fancy water here,” he drawled, the Texan in him slipping out. His eyes met your stiff form on the floor and he frowned. “Baby?”

“Er…” you looked up at him. “I didn’t get my period last month, Jen.”

The color drained from his face and the water bottle almost fell from his hands. “Wait… what?”

You shook your head, feeling like all the energy had been sucked out of you. “Jensen, I’m late and I’m throwing up and my jeans were tighter than normal.”

In any other circumstance, the image of Jensen Ackles stood in the bathroom door of a plush hotel room, an expensive bottle of water in his hand as he gaped like a fish on land, would have been one for Twitter. But right now, you imagined you looked much the same.

“You’re -” he swallowed and you nodded.

“Yup.”

“So you might be -”

“Yup.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yup.”

Jensen’s legs folded underneath him and he sat cross-legged on the floor, handing you the water in a daze. Despite the shock of your sudden realization, you really wanted the water to cleanse your mouth of the taste, and you drank it down greedily. “What do we do?” he whispered, staring at the tiled floor.

“I guess we get a test?” you offered, shrugging. “First step.”

“I meant afterwards. If you are.” He looked up. “We can’t have a kid in that apartment, it’s too small.” You clutched you chest, giggles bursting out of you and Jensen’s brow dipped, indicating his offence at your laughter. “What?”

“I thought you were just gonna say “we can’t have a kid” and I thought I was going to die for a second.”

Jensen shook his head, horror replacing his previously outraged expression. “Are you kidding me? Y/N… fuck, the timing is shit. But this…” he crawled forward, cupping your face and kissing you, apparently not caring that you were only minutes out from puking up rice and chicken from the nice place on Main St. “This is all I’ve ever wanted,” he assured you and your giggles turned into tears.

“Me too,” you murmured back, touching his face with your free hand. “I’m feeling better now. How about we find a pharmacy?”

*****

Jensen was right. Gary McKinley was a boring, unextraordinary man who just happened to be evil. It took less than three hours for the jury to convict him, without you even having to give evidence. You sat in the public gallery, watching him plead “guilty” to rape and “not guilty” to attempted murder.

They found him guilty of both offences.

It was all you needed.

Taking Jensen’s hand, you stood up, walking out of the courtroom, not even sparing a glance as they led McKinley down to the cells. Detective Mallion got up from her seat, following you and Jensen out, calling your name to catch your attention.

“Thank, Y/N. It was very brave of you to agree to give evidence, even if you didn’t have to.”

“Why didn’t they call her?” Jensen asked and the detective smiled. “Seems like a wasted trip.”

“It’s good thing. It means her statement and the witness statements, plus the DNA evidence, was enough. He’ll get a long sentence and probably no chance of parole with his earlier crimes brought to light. We’ve already got enough to build up several cases.” Her eyes softened as she look at you. “I know it isn’t much comfort but I’ve got a feeling a lot of lives were saved, with your willingness to come forward, to testify against him.”

You managed a weak smile, burrowing into Jensen’s side. “I hope so,” you whispered and Jensen squeezed you with his arm, kissing your temple.

Detective Mallion smiled again, holding her hand out to shake both yours and Jensen’s. “You two make such a lovely couple, by the way. I’m glad you have someone so kind and handsome, Y/N. I mean, we don’t really know each other at all but you strike me as a very lovely woman.”

“She is,” Jensen complimented, beaming brightly and the detective laughed.

“Well, have a safe flight back to Vancouver,” she said before pausing like she’d thought of something else. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be unprofessional but… my daughter is a massive fan of Supernatural. And Arrow, actually.” She reached into her jacket as you and Jensen caught on, smiling at the little autograph book the detective produced. “Would you mind a quick squiggle?”

“Of course not,” Jensen said. “Pity we’re leaving tomorrow or we’d say bring her out for dinner.”

The detective pulled a face. “She’s at college in New York. But I think she’s got tickets to next year’s Nashcon.” She looked at you, smiling hopefully. “If you haven’t been put off by our city, that is.”

“The city hasn’t lost its charm,” you replied, a little shaky. “I wouldn’t want to miss too many more conventions but next April might be… difficult.” You laid a hand on your belly and Jensen snorted a laugh as he signed the book. The detective looked puzzled for a moment before her eyes went wide.

“Oh god!” she exclaimed quietly. “Congratulations!”

“We only just found out,” Jensen scolded you, handing over the autograph book. “Does police confidentiality work in this situation?”

Detective Mallion laughed out loud. “Certainly. My lips are sealed.” She took the book gratefully as you handed it back, complete with signatures. “Thank you so much, she’s going to be thrilled. She couldn’t afford too much for Nashcon this time round. We’ve got her some photos for Christmas that she doesn’t know about yet.”

Jensen winked. “Tell her to let us know it’s her. We’ll sort something out. We owe her mom for catching the bad guy after all.”

“Just doin’ my job,” Detective Mallion replied, beaming at the both of you. “I’d better get back in. I’ll let you know the outcome of sentencing, if that’s okay?”

You nodded, taking Jensen’s hand. “Please. And thank you, again.”

“Like I said,” the detective breathed, still smiling. “Just doin’ my job.”


	11. Chapter 11

You held the scan photo out and Jared snatched it, staring at it in shock. “Due in May,” you informed him and he looked up, fixing you and Jensen with an equally astounded expression. “We found out in Nashville and wanted to tell you first.” You paused, gesturing to Jensen. “After our parents.”

“This is amazing! Congratulations!” Jared’s big arms were around both of you in an instant, pulling you into a threeway hug that almost suffocated you but you laughed anyway, tapping his arm to get him to release you. “Sorry. Oh man, this great!”

Jensen grinned bashfully. “It wasn’t planned or anything,” you murmured, “but we’re happy. We know it’s soon -”

Jared made a “pfft” noise, waving his hand. “You two were so in love with each other, you’ve practically been dating for years. You’re gonna be great parents!” He went to hug you again but you dodged it, laughing.

“Sorry, dude, I’m still dealing with morning sickness.”

Jensen sighed. “Yeah, she won’t let me touch her either.”

Jared grimaced. “Gen actually screamed at me when I tried to hug her last time she was pregnant. Pregnant Gen is scary.” You glared at him and he backtracked, grinning and holding his hands up, offering you back the scan photo he was still clinging to. “You won’t be though. You’re already radiant.”

“We’re gonna inform the cast and crew in a couple of days, before Thanksgiving break,” Jensen said, changing the subject. “Gonna have another scan before Christmas.” He looked over at you, tugging you closer by the elbow. “We’re lookin’ for a new place too. Kids need more space than our apartment.”

Warmth filled your chest and you cuddled into Jensen’s side, hugging him tightly as Jared stared at you like his favorite onscreen couple had finally hooked up. “Is it okay if I tell Gen?” he asked.

“Of course,” you piped up. “You’ll need to anyway, seeing as she’s gonna be godmother.”

Jensen grinned as Jared’s eyes lit up. “And obviously, you’re the godfather,” he said and for a second you thought Jared might cry. “Wouldn’t be anyone else, would it?”

Jared shook his head, his entire giant body shaking with emotion. You smiled, feeling like you might cry at how happy you felt in that moment.

Before any actual tears could be shed, someone yelled across the lot for the boys and Jensen turned, kissing you on the lips. “I’ll see you after work, yeah?”

“I don’t have any scenes today,” you replied as he started to move away with Jared. “Call me so I’m awake when you get in.”

“I will,” he promised, waving you off. You waited until they disappeared into the set building, before turning and walking towards your car. Cliff was waiting for you, smiling as he opened the door.

“News went down well,” he asked and you nodded, climbing into the passenger side. “Told you that you were worrying for nothing.”

You leaned against the window as Cliff got in and started the engine. “At least Jared and my mom are okay. I can’t shake the feeling Jensen’s parents hate me. They’ve met me twice and suddenly I’m pregnant.” Cliff frowned, glancing over at you as you sighed against the window. “I don’t wanna be a rift between Jensen and his parents. They’re close.”

“You won’t be,” Cliff assured you but you didn’t reply, keeping your eyes focused on the buildings as they flashed by.

Somehow, you knew that the happiness couldn’t last. You just weren’t that lucky.

*****

Thanksgiving came with an invite to Texas to spend it with Jensen’s parents. He hadn’t accepted the invite, waiting to speak to you when he returned from a convention. You were busy at an Arrow convention, so you’d spent the weekend apart and with your belly getting rounder by the moment and the cast and crew aware of your situation, you’d spent most of it hiding yourself in baggy clothes.

Your phone pinged as you got out of a panel and you opened the text from Jensen, smiling as you read it. Pressing the call button, you lifted the phone to hear it ring. A few seconds and Jensen answered, a smile in his voice. “Hey, I’m free.”

“ _ Hey, babe, _ ” he greeted. “ _ How’s the con _ ?”

“Good,” you exhaled, following your security escort down the access corridor to the car outside. The Atlanta heat beat down on you and you wiped your forehead. “I’m missing Vancouver and the rain. At least we get a week off soon.”

Jensen chuckled nervously. “ _ About that _ …”

You didn’t object to spending the time with his parents. If anything, you wanted to prove to them that you weren’t some gold-digger, just after Jensen for the money and opportunity. Your nerves were worsened when you realized they must have heard about your ordeal.

Until the day before your flight, you were a mess. Frazzled beyond belief and not sleeping, to the point that Jensen put his foot down asked outright what was wrong. “Your parents hate me,” you blurted out and he frowned, reeling back in shock. “They only met me twice, we’ve only been together a few months, I’m pregnant and I know your family are Christian so that’s a big thing to them -”

“Y/N!” Jensen called, grabbing your arms to calm you down. It worked and you instantly relaxed, looking into his face with a trembling bottom lip. “My parents don’t hate you. Sure,” he gave you a lopsided grin, “they’re not thrilled about the baby out of wedlock but it’s a different world to the one they grew up in. Doesn’t make him or her any less an Ackles.”

“You’re sure they don’t hate me?” you said, your voice tiny and Jensen laughed, shaking his head.

“They absolutely don’t,” he assured you. “They want to get to know you. That’s why they asked us to fly out.”

His reassurance made you feel marginally better but you were still shaking when you approached the door of his parent’s very nice home, just over a day later. Jensen knocked and you clutched the flowers you’d bought for them tightly.

His mom opened the door and instantly smiled, opening her arms and pulling Jensen into a hug first, followed by you and you squeaked, unsure of the sudden affection. “Oh, I’m so happy to see you both!” Mrs Ackles gasped, clasping her hands to her mouth. “And you’re positively glowing, my dear!”

You didn’t feel like you were glowing. Texas was hot, even in November, and you felt more like a pig that had been rolling around in dirty water all day before being sat in a sauna with cling film wrapped around you. Glowing was the last thing you’d describe yourself as.

“We bought you these, Mrs Ackles,” you offered, holding out the flowers and she giggled, accepting them and smelling them.

“Oh they’re gorgeous, please, come in!” she moved to the side, gesturing into the house with one hand, the other holding the flowers. “And call me Donna. Alan!”

The elder Ackles emerged from the sitting room, grinning when he saw his son, holding his arms out. “Jensen! Y/N!” Jensen returned the embrace and you blushed as Alan moved to hug you. “You both look very well. How’s the office?”

Jensen chuckled. “It’s good.”

Alan’s eyes moved to you. “And you’re on Arrow now, right?” You nodded, folding your hands in front fo you. “Are they treating you and my future grandchild well?”

“Alan!” Donna scolded, carrying the flowers through to the kitchen, but you weren’t offended by the question, giggling lightly.

“They’re treating us very well, sir,” you replied, tilting your head a little and Alan laughed.

“Oh god, not “sir”,” he admonished playfully. “Alan is fine.”

You beamed at Jensen, who gave you a look that said “told you so”. After taking the bags up to Jensen’s usual room, Donna called up to say dinner was ready.

Thanksgiving went by too quickly and you soon found that the Ackles didn’t hold an ounce of malice towards you. They were warm and welcoming and Donna was one of the best cooks you’d ever know. Your own mom wasn’t much for culinary arts but she’d done what she’d could. You’d never tell her that Donna’s freshly made pumpkin pie was the tastiest you’d ever had.

Flying back into Vancouver, you returned to four days of back-to-back shoots and a convention weekend. It was a Creation event with Jensen, so you didn’t have to go alone. Facing questions from the audience was always tough, tougher since everything had happened but it gave you joy to see how many people had been helped by your campaign.

“Are you planning to do another?” asked one fan, just after you’d signed her huge Supernatural book. You looked up, stunned by the question.

“Er, I’m not sure. It’s been a crazy few weeks, y’know,” you laughed. “New show, new house -”

“You’re moving?” asked Mel, sat by your side.

Without thinking you replied; “The apartment isn’t big enough for a kid, Mel, we gotta get a house.”

“Wait, what?” the fan asked and your eyes went wide, your own actions giving you away as you instinctively covered your bump, shielded by another of Jensen’s baggy sweatshirts. “You’re pregnant?” She wasn’t quiet in the slightest and you could hear the murmurs running through the queue behind her.

Mel realized your error and quickly started moving people through. You signed autographs in a daze, unable to believe you’d just slipped up like that, reaching for your phone as soon as the last auto was done, firing off a text to Jensen asking him to meet you immediately.

He appeared backstage five minutes later, frowning at your panicked face. “Jen!”

“What is it? Are you okay?” His hand was on your belly, fear clouding his tone. “Is it the baby?”

“No!” you sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I accidentally talked about it in front of a fan. It’s gonna be all over Twitter!” Your tears were coming thick and fast, fuelled by your hormones and Jensen stared at you for a second, wary of the crew members around you that were on hand in case of full on break down.

Then he started laughing and you scowled at him, the tears drying up, sadness dissolving into anger instantly. “I’m sorry,” Jensen laughed out, trying to catch his breath, “but you’re so adorable. Baby, we can tell everyone if you want.”

“What?” You blinked, unsure of what you were hearing.

He nodded, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Why don’t I call you on during my solo panel? We can announce it together.”

“Everyone here probably knew in five seconds,” you muttered miserably. “It’s hardly going to be a surprise.”

“Well, we’ll take the control back. We’ll do an official announcement on stage and then tweet something sickly sweet so everyone can throw up later,” he offered and you couldn’t help bursting into laughter. Jensen grinned. “See? Knew I’d see that beautiful smile again.”

“You’re a dope,” you informed him.

Jensen leaned in, nuzzling his nose to yours. “I’m your dope.”

*****

You hovered on the stage edge, waiting for Jensen to call you on. So far, no one had asked about your slip earlier, and you were practically biting your nails with the nerves, even though you’d done a thousand panels before. Ten minutes to go and one nervous girl climbed up to the mic, clearing her throat.

“Hi, Jensen,” she squeaked and Jensen waved, smiling.

“Howdy.”

“So, we’ve… well, the thing is…” she stalled, coughing again nervously.

“It’s okay, I don’t bite,” Jensen joked, grinning and the fan tittered into the mic. “What’s your question?”

“Y/N let slip to a fan earlier that she’s pregnant. Is it true?” Silence fell over the auditorium and you swallowed as Jensen looked over at you, still smiling. He raised his hand and beckoned you onto the stage and you stepped out, a sudden chorus of cheers going around the seated fans.

“In that question, lies an  _ official _ announcement,” he started, looping his arm around your waist as you felt your cheeks heating up to a thousand degrees. Jensen was smiling impossibly wide, the mic catching every word to project it across the room. “Y/N and I are having a baby. May next year.”

There was a round of applause and shouts of congratulations. Someone shouted, asking if it was a boy or a girl and Jensen laughed, handing you the mic.

“We don’t know. We’re waiting to find out,” you said, nerves making your voice shake. “But we’re very happy, thank you.”

“You’re awesome!” someone yelled out and you blushed, making Jensen laugh at your bashfulness.

“She can’t take a compliment, sorry,” he offered, standing from his seat. “Anyway, we’ve got time for one more question.” He pointed at the other side of the stage, keeping his arm looped around you body, holding you into his side as the fan stepped up and smiled at you both.

“Congratulations,” she started and Jensen lifted the mic.

“Thank you.”

“Are you planning on getting married?” the fan asked and your eyes went wide, your head turning to look at Jensen. It wasn’t something you’d discussed, although it was something you wanted. You’d never thought beyond the baby.

Jensen’s eyes sparkled. “I haven’t asked,” he replied, shrugging casually. “Yet.”

The room exploded and Jensen cheekily winked, saying goodbye into the mic as “Carry On Wayward Son” started to play you off. He hustled you off the side of the stage before you could turn and shout in his face. “Yet?”

He laughed loudly. “Yet.”

“You’re an ass,” you growled out and Jensen pulled you into a kiss, easily breaking down your defences. You hummed against him, leaning back in his arms when the kiss ended. “You’re lucky you’re my ass.”


	12. Chapter 12

It was your last shoot before Christmas and it should have been a short one but Stephen wasn’t anywhere to be found. You stood in your costume, feeling more pregnant than ever with the tightness of the fabric around your belly. The producers hadn’t been bothered by your pregnancy - editing was a lot better than it used to be. It had actually worked in their favor that the character, Eve, could be on a quest for redemption, returning after your maternity leave was finished, if you so wished.

By midday, you were getting really annoyed and Stephen wasn’t answering his phone. The director trotted up to you, smiling nervously. “Amell is on his way, he’s in makeup. We’re gonna do the first run through of the scene, where you walk into the warehouse and hear the disembodied voice speak, okay?”

“Okay,” you sighed, shaking yourself out. It was a simple take, just walking through and looking equal parts concerned and fearless, but you’d been on your feet all morning and swelling ankles were a very real thing. “I’m ready whenever you guy are.”

The lights went down, concealing the crew and cameras and you closed your eyes, getting into character.

“And - action!”

You stalked through the dark corridor, aware of the cameras following you but not able to see them clearly. Finding your mark on the floor, you stopped at it, just as the recording started to play.

“Ah, Eve, what a pleasant surprise.”

Looking around, you pulled your weapon free, scowling into the darkness. “I know who you are. And I know what you want.”

The voice chuckled, distorting even more. “Ah, but I know who you are, Y/N.” You frowned - that wasn’t the script. Looking to where the director was sat, your frown deepened when you saw they hadn’t moved. Whoever was doing the recording was seriously throwing you off.

“The Green Arrow will follow me,” you continued, hoping it was just a prank.

“He won’t, he’s still in make up,” the voice replied and you sighed.

“Okay, it’s very funny. Could we not? I’m tired and pregnant and cranky,” you spat out, folding your arms over your chest and dropping your character. “Come out. I’m not playing today.”

The voice chuckled again, becoming a little clearer. “I thought you liked my boyish charm,” it said and your eyes narrowed further in suspicion, just as he spoke again. “See, I know you. You’re beautiful and smart and funny,” Jensen’s voice was clear now and you wondered what the hell he was up to. “You’re the mother of my child,” a spotlight came on suddenly, illuminating Jensen and a microphone, on one knee, holding up a ring, “and I would very much like it if you would also be my wife.”

Your heart thumped into your stomach so quick, you thought you might puke. Everyone was silent, waiting, like they were still rolling on the shoot. Jensen was looking more nervous by the minute, dressed in the black v-neck you loved, still wearing a ratty pair of jeans from the set and Dean’s work boots.

“I - I -” You couldn’t get the words out.

“I wish I’d done this a long time ago,” Jensen said slowly and quietly. “I wish I’d told you how I felt from the moment I saw you. I love you, Y/N, and I want to marry you and have shit tons of babies.”

“Oh,” you gasped, reaching for his hand. “Oh god, Jensen… yes. Yes, I will marry you.”

His face broke out into a huge grin and he slipped the ring onto your finger, standing to kiss you before embracing you tightly as the Arrow crew jumped up and down, clapping. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Jared and Stephen, smiling and giving the thumbs up.

Jensen pulled back, still grinning from ear to ear, his dimples pronounced and eyes crinkling in the corners. He’d never looked so handsome. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing you softly.

“I love you too,” you replied.

*****

Surprisingly, you and Jensen managed a quiet Christmas, spending it at your apartment for the last time. Jensen had a list of houses to visit after the holiday with the hope that one of them would be the family home both of you wanted. He’d mentioned looking at places in Texas, close to his family and Jared, but neither of you had given it much thought.

It was February before the subject came up again and you were nearly at the end of the sixth month, ballooning out more every day. But you were happy and everything was going fine, even if you did spend a good chunk of time waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Vegascon was approaching and you were due there on the Sunday with Jensen, flying in on the Saturday night. Jared had planned a night on the town but with swollen ankles and exhaustion getting the better of you, you waved Jensen off from the hotel, intending on having a nice bubble bath and watching some trashy TV.

Thirty minutes after you’d settled down, Jensen was back, grinning from ear to ear and you frowned, watching him approach from your relaxed position on the bed. “What are you doing back? I thought you and Jared were having a steak eating competition?”

“We were,” Jensen said, kneeling on the bed and crawling over to kiss you. “But I missed you.”

“Are you drunk?” you asked, amused by his expression as he slumped next to you, one hand on your protruding baby bump. “You don’t smell drunk.”

“I’m drunk on you,” he replied in a soppy tone and you laughed. “Marry me.”

“I already said yes,” you showed him the ring, “in case you forgot.”

Jensen laughed, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I mean tonight. Let’s do the Vegas thing. We can have a big party later, do it properly later, after the baby is here. But I don’t wanna wait any longer to call you Mrs. Ackles.”

You pulled back, giving him a funny look. “Really? Isn’t that a bit cheesy?”

He shrugged. “I don’t care. And I’m not drunk. Haven’t touched a drop.” With a sigh, he moved, kissing the top of your bump. “I’m just being impatient. All I want is to marry you and start a life together.”

“We already have a life together,” you murmured, reaching out to stroke through his hair. “Getting married won’t change that.” You smiled as he looked up at you, resting his head just above the bump. The baby was kicking now, obviously aware of his or hers father’s presence. “But if you really want to –“

Jensen’s eyes lit up. “I don’t wanna make you do something you’re not comfortable with,” he whispered. “And we don’t have to do it tonight.”

“It would be cheaper,” you mused, and he chuckled.

“You know I don’t care about cost,” he mumbled, smiling when he felt the baby boot his hand hard and you winced. “She’s active tonight.”

“She likes the big city,” you sighed, smiling widely. “Jen… I wanna marry you. I don’t care about big parties. If you wanna head down to the casino and get hitched right now, we can.” He moved, kissing you hard and you groaned into his mouth, clutching at his shoulders. “Or… we could wait.”

Jensen grinned, kissing you again. “I think it can wait until tomorrow.”

*****

In the end, you and Jensen married at the Little White Chapel in Vegas, in a ceremony that lasted ten minutes, with Jared, Misha and Brianna as your witnesses. Parties would be arranged for when you got home – neither of you needed the big event. As long as it was legal and you were together, you didn’t care.

You left Vegas on the Monday morning as Mrs. Y/N Ackles, still wearing the flowing white summer dress you’d been wearing for the ceremony. Your honeymoon was a buffet at the Mirage hotel and Jared scrounged up a cake from an erotic bakery just off the strip as a joke.

It was all you could have asked for.

Now, back in Vancouver and back to work, the reality still didn’t quite kick in. When Jensen’s parents called via Skype, they brought up the subject of moving to Austin once again and this time, with the housing prospects in Vancouver looking limited, you didn’t argue.

The next day, Jensen already had half a dozen brochures for houses you’d never even considered in your price range. “Jen, these are… really nice,” you murmured, looking over the properties. “But they’re really expensive.”

He shrugged. “They’re affordable for our combined incomes,” he said slowly, as if he was hesitant to discuss money. “And I’ve got some savings. I’ve been a single guy for the last ten years. I don’t exactly spend a lot.” You stared at him, narrowing your eyes slowly.

“How much?” you asked, curiously and Jensen chuckled.

“Enough to buy you any house you want.”

“I couldn’t –“ you started, cut off by his finger on your lips.

“You can. Y/N, I’m your husband. And I’m not going all caveman on you but I’m here to protect you and cherish you and love you, and our kid.” He smiled, moving his hand to cup your cheek. “If I could buy you the moon, sweetheart…” The sentence trailed off, no need to be finished and you pushed up onto your toes, kissing him softly.

“I love you,” you whispered. “And I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Jensen smiled and kissed you back. “You didn’t need to do anything.”

*****

Getting away with a wedding was one thing but a housewarming?

The senior Ackles’ weren’t letting it happen. As soon as you’d settled on a house in Austin, conveniently down the road from Jared and Gen, a party was organised, becoming a sort of double celebration, until you went into labor early in April, five weeks before your due date.

He was five pounds and one ounce, ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes, perfectly formed with a thatch of dark black hair and apparently, with his father’s impatience. After a week in hospital, you and Jensen still hadn’t decided on a name, referring to him as Baby Ackles until Donna pointed out he couldn’t be called that forever.

The double celebration became a triple celebration, three weeks after you returned home from hospital and had settled in with baby Breckin. He was the guest of honor and you couldn’t help but beam at how many people loved him already. It was nearly a year since everything had happened and it was hard to believe things had changed so much.

You had two weeks left of Jensen being at home before hiatus ended. He didn’t want to leave, despite the start of filming Supernatural’s last season. There was a lot of hype around it, being only fifteen episodes and Jensen was looking forward to relaxing with you for a little while, leaving the decisions for future work to one side.

“I don’t wanna go,” he said, bouncing Breckin in his arms, cooing at the tiny boy who giggled and drooled, snatching at his father’s finger. “I’m gonna miss you guys so much.”

“We’ll be here when you’re retired from monster hunting, grandpa,” you teased from your position folding onesies on the couch. “And your mom and dad are only round the corner, Gen is down the street – I’m not gonna be alone, Jen.”

“What about the conventions?” he asked, sucking in a breath. “I don’t wanna stop doing them.”

“So don’t,” you shrugged. “I’m not gonna stop you doing anything you love, you know that.”

He smiled, bending over the back of the couch to kiss your cheek. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he murmured, repeating your words from months before back to him. “You’ve given me so much.”

“You’ve given me just as much,” you replied, smiling as Breckin grabbed a lock of your hair, tugging hard, making you laugh. His babyish sounds filled your heart with warmth and Jensen let him slide from his arms into yours, pausing your housework for the time being. Jensen rounded the couch, carefully moving your folded pile of laundry before sitting down next to you, just as you lifted Breckin and cooed at him, making the little boy laugh even more.

“He’s such a happy kid,” Jensen commented, unable to take the smile off of his face.

“That’s because he’s got a mama and daddy that love him more than anything,” you informed him, bringing Breckin close to your face to kiss his button nose. His cheeks were chubby and red, his dimples just like his dad’s and his eyes just as green. “Oh, yes we do,” you sang and Jensen laughed, leaning against the couch cushions.

“Did you ever think life could be this good?” he asked, pressing close to you, his head leaning on your shoulder as Breckin yawned widely, his nap time fast approaching.

You cradled your son against your chest, resting your head against Jensen’s. “No. I only ever dreamed of this,” you whispered, watching Breckin’s eyes drift close. “But this? Everything?” You sighed and smiled. “It’s perfect.”

 


End file.
